Where's the Baby?

My newest short story. If you enjoy cliff-hangers you will like this one. I have entered the Hub Patron of the arts contest and this is my first entry for the writing contest. All the photos and writing are done by me. I hope you enjoy "Where's the Baby?"

Where's the Baby?

Something in the Creek

Something in the Creek

There’s something in the creek

That no one knows

It’s not around in daylight

When everyone goes

***

There’s something in the creek

I know it’s there

I’ve been out by moonlight

So every one beware

***

There’s something in the creek

It’s evil oh yes

Wanting souls there with it

It feeds on their distress

***

There’s something in the creek

Heed what I say

Don’t go there past sundown

Will be you final day

©2007 M. Eileen O’Dea all rights reserved

Grizzly Long Hair Feather Extensions

Grizzly Long Hair Feather Extensions

This is the hottest new rage to hit hair design. You can buy hair feather extension kits and do your own hair like I plan to do - or you can go to a salon and have hair feather extensions put in for you. You can also buy the feathers singly or in lots. Check out my article for some great hair feather extension pictures and ideas.

Remembering Towns lost

When Irene hit my area two towns close to my heart were devastated. The following poem is older and is are my tribute to the area I call home.

Schoharie County

So unclaimed the county with the historic and spectacular in surrounding valley. Is a shame when one knows what wealth for the body and soul this niche in New York’s center has to lay before one’s feet. With miles of blowing corn fields that delight the summer eye and snowflake covered evergreens to warm the winter heart. In spring the rejuvenated shire sparkles with nature’s onset into splendor and never one has witnessed such ostentation when fall’s foliage takes the stage.

And the history that the province keep honored and protected holds a score to ensure enthrallment zest and edify. With a bevy of museum archives to explore arboretum inspiring and immeasurable impressions along the road. Grand combats once fought and won there and the Old Stone Fort reenactment drama enchanting a sight. Even off beaten path in hinterlands and nooks lie plaquards filled with chronicled fare to sharpen one’s fascination.

If a lark through shops of antiquity is your delight the canton is peppered with shops of antiques treasured relics obsolete finds and more. From time worm collections you can not live without to uncovered trinkets to become new heirlooms. You can loose your self in the charm and greatness in their numbers. Some touted in publications to find your way others found quite by chance while you journey along country road.

However my musings may intrigue the county its self speaks for its glory with its splendor. From the moment you cross the border into Schoharie County you can hear it calling to you welcoming you into her euphoric borderland. There is a cordiality in the air that starts out warm then grow to a sense of impressive exhilaration received. And before you know it you are taken into the fold and your experience will be that like you have never known before.

©2004 M. Eileen O’Dea All rights reserved.

For Joe

For Joe

Never before had anyone seen my soul

No one was ever allowed the key

Hidden it remained by even myself

Then you came into my life

~

Never before had anyone known my heart

No one was ever deemed worthy

Lonely it remained in search of love

Then you came into my life

~

Never before had anyone wanted my secrets

No one was ever given a clue

Veiled they remained for me only

Then you came into my life

~

Never before had anyone showed me honor

No one was ever strong enough

Waylaid it remained in search of victor

Then you came into my life

~

Never before had I known true love’s meaning

No one was ever worth the quest

Lost it remained to me for so long

Then you came into my life

~

Never before had I loved like I love you

No one was ever worth this gift

Saved it remained just waiting for you

Then you came into my life

~

Never again will I want for another

No one can ever compare to you

Cherished you remain and always will

Since you came into my life

~

©2007 M. Eileen O’Dea all rights reserved

Teen fucked

Teen fucked

Gardening Analogies: Life Lessons from the Garden

The Sweet Pea Massacre

I kind of knew that I shouldn't have pruned them so harshly. I'd been looking at them closely now for two weeks - wondering why they were rioting over the side of their bathtub container, yet still they had no blossoms on their massive tendrils. I thought that I had planted duds, that I wasn't going to get any flowers, or worse yet,that I would have this tangled mess of sweet pea vines just taking up room in my precious soil. READ THE REST HERE:

Gardening Analogies: Life Lessons from the Garden

Luigi and Joe

Luigi and Joe

You could say that fifteen year old Joe Riley was less than thrilled to be taking the subway to the Bronx to visit his grandfather in the nursing home, but his mother insisted he go, seeing it would probably be the last time he would see him alive. It was a morbid thought that Joe wasn't very crazy about. He wasn’t all that fond of his grandfather anyway. The old man had been hard on his grandson. Being his only male role model, he took it a little too seriously and ended up driving Joe away from him. Now, Joe was just waiting for him to die and get it over with so he could get on with his life.

He trudged up the steps of Saint Agnes Home For The Aged like he was a condemned man. He politely held the door open for two nuns before he entered what he referred to as “The Final Curtain Call“. When he got in to the ancient elevator, he pressed the button and said a prayer he would make it to the third floor. The elevator shimmied all the way up. When it reached the third floor, it stopped with a thud. "What a piece of crap!", Joe commented as he exited. As an elderly woman was entering in, Joe shouted, "God be with you, Lady", as the doors screeched closed. Joe shook his head and started toward his grandfather's room.

When Joe walked into the room, a doctor was just pulling a sheet over the old man's face. He looked up at Joe.

"I'm sorry, Son. Are you a relative?".

Joe looked at his dead grandfather's covered body. "Not anymore", he said, with no emotion. "I was his grandson."

"Well", the doctor said, laying his hand on Joe's shoulder, "He's in a better place now."

"I know I am" , Joe said, shaking his head.

He looked at the old man sitting by the window.

"Should he be in here with a dead body and everything?"

"No.", the doctor said, "but we're short handed today. A nurse will be by to get him soon. I'll give you a few minutes with your grandfather."

The doctor left Joe with his dead grandfather and the old man by the window.

Joe slowly peeled the sheet back from his grandfather's face. "Hey.", he said. "Just wanted to make sure you were really gone. I guess I can breathe now. You were one tough, hard fisted, son of a bitch, Pop. You might not have left any scars on my body, but I sure have plenty of ‘em on the inside. Kind of funny, you dyin’ in a Catholic home, ‘cause I’m bettin’ you're on the express train to Hell right now." He wiped his nose with his t-shirt. "You didn't have to be like you were, ya know, ya old fart? I'd of listened to ya if ya were nicer, probably even more, but it's too late now, isn't it? Now you're gone. Oh, and something else. Thanks for tryin‘, even if you didn't know what you were doin."

Joe covered his grandfather back up and turned to walk out the door, but the old man by the window caught his eye.

"Geeze, Mister. You shouldn't be sittin’ in here with a dead body layin’ around."

He walked over to the man’s wheelchair and grabbed ahold of it.

"Come on. I'll get ya out of here until they clean up the joint."

When he turned him around, he could see that the old man had been crying.

"Aww, geeze. Are you okay Mister?", Joe asked, hoping he was because he wouldn't know what to do if he wasn't.

The old man looked up at Joe and smiled. "

I'm just fine", he said in a thick Italian accent. "Excuse my presence here, but I couldn't leave. You're a good boy telling your grandfather thank you. You didn't have to, but you did. You show good character. Good heart."

Joe smiled at the old man. "Really. It was nothing. He's gone now."

The old man said, "But you do it. That's what is important."

"Thanks Mister. You're ok.", Joe humbly said.

"You're ok, too, and my name is Luigi. Luigi Zanello.", the old man stated.

"Well. Pleased to meet you, Luigi Zanello. My name is Joe Riley. Now, let's get you out of here. This place gives me the creeps."

Joe pushed Luigi's chair out into the hallway. He looked around for some place to settle him in. There was a sitting room across the hall, so he brought him in there. He parked his wheelchair and sat down next to the old man.

"You should be alright here until they take care of my grandfather, Luigi.", he told him "Do you need a nurse or anything?"

Luigi hissed, "Those nurses are too busy for old Luigi. I'll just sit here like an old Frigidator."

Joe held in a laugh at Luigi's mangling of the word “Frigidaire“. He looked at the clock on the wall. "Tell ya what, Luigi. I'll sit here with ya for a little while. We wouldn't want anybody puttin’ ya out on the curb now, would we?"

Joe looked at the old man. His face was filled with wrinkles and deep lines. His eyes looked so old that the color had actually faded away to a dull gray. He couldn't help but notice Luigi's ears were very big. Joe wondered if they had always been that way. Then he realized the man still had a full head of hair and it was thick. He tried to see if it was a wig without looking conspicuous. It sure looked real to him. The old man was thin, but not a sick looking kind of thin. In fact, for an old man, Luigi looked pretty darn healthy.

"Luigi? If you don't mind me askin. How old are you?"

Luigi smiled and folded his big hands. "I'm ninety three years old", he said proudly, "and I still have my own teeth." He laughed so Joe could see that, in fact, he did still have his teeth.

"Good for you, Luigi. Probably due to good livin’, right?" Luigi hissed again, "You really want to know the secret, Joe?" He waved for him to come closer. "Every day of my life, I have drank a nice glass of dandelion wine. My own recipe. Homemade, though. No other stuff."

He gave Joe a wink. "I’ll give you the recipe. It’s in my dresser in my room. Easy to make. Much easier to drink."

He laughed, slapping his leg and shaking his head. "How old are you, Joe?"

"Fifteen."

"That's old enough. I was ten when I started making my wine. Kind of tricky to find enough dandelions in the city, but you can do it."

Joe thought about making his own wine from weeds. Not only would he not live it down once his friends got wind of it, but his mother would also have a conniption. Still, he thought it might be a kick trying it just once, just to see what it tasted like.

"So, Luigi. What other secrets do ya have for livin’ a longer life?"

"Tomatoes."

"Tomatoes?"

"Tomatoes. Eat a lot of tomatoes. Cook them, eat them off the vine or in sauce, but eat tomatoes. When I came to this country, I was poor, but I could grow tomatoes. We ate those tomatoes every day. I was always a healthy man."

"Ok I'll eat more tomatoes.", Joe said.

"Good boy, Joe. You'll live to one hundred. You watch and see."

Joe looked at Luigi's left hand. He didn't see a wedding ring. He wondered if he had lost his wife or if he ever even had one. "So, Luigi. Were you ever married?", Joe asked.

"Oh!", Luigi said. A different kind of smile came to his face.

"Four wives I had." He held up four fingers. "A wife for each quarter of my life."

Joe smiled. "So. You were a player, you sly old dog."

"Oh no, Joe. Never played. Every time was a purpose. Wife one was my true love. We were fourteen, a year younger than you. We married in Palermo, Italy. She gave me two sons, Michael and Anthony. We were very happy, but poor. So, we came to America, the land of opportunity. Then, Angelina got sick and we had no money for a doctor. We lost her when she was just twenty."

"Oh geeze, Luigi. I'm sorry I brought it up.", Joe said apologetically.

"No. No. Her memory is a good one. She left me my sons. Wife number two was for the boys. They were young and needed a mother. She was a good woman, good mother, and nice to me, too, but she was mugged in an ally for two dollars. She never made it out alive. Wife three was a good worker, but her heart was not too tough. It gave out and she died right after the boys moved out and got married. Wife number four made me less lonely for a long time. We were friends and that was important. I was a very lucky man in love, Joe. It might not sound like it, but I was."

Joe thought about everything Luigi had told him. He was growing to like the old man. He was interesting, nice, and filled with all kinds of information. He found himself wishing Luigi had been his grandfather. If he had been, maybe his life would have been a lot different.

"Luigi. You want something to drink?"

"I'd love a beer", the old man said with a smile, "but I'll settle for a Pepsi."

Joe remembered a soda machine on the ground floor. He patted Luigi's back. "I'll be right back. You gonna be here?"

Luigi hissed, "Until midnight, I'll be here."

Joe laughed and left the old man to get the sodas

.

As Joe rode the rickety elevator down to the first floor, he thought about Luigi's life. He must have seen it all in his ninety three years. He thought he had been through it all in his fifteen. He had so many questions for the old man. After all, he seemed very willing to answer them. He quickly got two Pepsis and got back into the scare ride of an elevator. His thoughts were so consuming that he didn't even notice the wobbling or violent stop. Joe was far too eager to get back to his conversation with Luigi.

When Joe got back to the sitting room, Luigi was checking out one of the nurses who was standing out in the hallway. Joe took a second look at the nurse.

"Luigi you're not thinking about wife number five, are ya?"

The old man laughed out loud. "She's too old for Luigi", he said with a wink.

"I got ya", Joe said, handing him his bottle of soda. He was amazed when the old man simply opened the bottle and took a good chug from it.

"That's good.", Luigi said. "All they give us here is juice. At my age, I should get what I want. You know what I mean, Joe?"

Joe took a chug of his soda ."I couldn't agree with you more Luigi."

Joe sat across from Luigi so they were face to face.

"So Luigi, what did you do for a living before you were put in here?"

"I was a farmer, Joe."

Joe looked shocked "A farmer in the city?"

Luigi smiled with a far away look in his eye. "Oh yes, Joe. We had a house in Little Italy, they called it back then. I turned the back yard into a big, vegetable garden. A friend built me a cart to sell my tomatoes, lettuce, and zucchini. I did a pretty good business."

"What did you do in the winter?", Joe asked.

"I sold rabbits.", Luigi said proudly.

"Rabbits? What for?"

"For eating. They were as popular as beef back then. Still are in some places, I hear. You haven't tasted anything till you tasted rabbit stew, Joe." Luigi smacked his lips, remembering the delicious meal.

"I think I'll stick to chicken there, Luigi." Joe said, imagining that same meal.

"Rabbits were cheap, Joe. We didn't have a lot of money and those furry little things sure did mate.", he laughed. We could sell a lot of them. Cheap, too. People always had meat to put on the table. You get a taste for something when it's the only thing you have, Joe." "Yea I guess you would Luigi."

Joe thought about how hard it must have been for a poor Italian man in the city. He probably didn't speak much English. His neighborhood was most likely his world. Since Luigi could provide them with food, he must have been pretty popular, not to mention one of the richest men on the block.

"So, Luigi. What happened to your sons?"

"Ah. Michael was my oldest. He went into the army after school. He made it to be Major. Got all kinds of medals, too, but he was killed in something, not really a war, in Korea. I never understood, but they said he was a hero. I still have his Purple Heart. Antony was a little younger. He was his mama's boy. She taught him to cook and bake bread. He opened his very own bakery in the upper Eastside. His sons still run it today. Oh, they were good boys, my sons. A father shouldn't have to bury his sons. He should die first."

Luigi's smile left his face. His memories were turning sad. Joe didn't mean to bring up painful memories. He tried to think of something to change the subject.

"What about school, Luigi?" Joe quickly blurted out. "Did you go to school in Palermo?" Luigi leaned forward in his wheelchair. "Joe. That was my one regret. I only went to school to the fourth grade. If I had gotten a better education, who knows what I could have been. You listen to me, Joe. Stay in school and go to collage." The old man pounded his fists on the arms of his chair.

"You don't want to be an old man like me wondering “what if”, every day he has left. It’s no way to live. Believe me. I know."

He smiled at Joe. "I'm not trying to tell you like your grandfather, Joe. I just don't want you to make the same mistake I did. I didn't think I needed school. I was wrong. I did, and so do you." He sat back in his chair and drank his bottle of soda.

Joe sat there thinking about everything Luigi had told him. He had learned so much from this old man in just one chance visit on an emotional afternoon. Why couldn't his grandfather have been like Luigi? Why couldn't they have just sat and talked? Maybe they were just too close. Maybe his grandfather just hadn't been through everything Luigi had. For what ever reason, Joe was glad he took the time to help this old man out of his grandfather's room. The lessons he taught him were more than enough payment for the gesture, and even though the generation gap was vast between them, Joe had made a valuable friend that day and he was lucky enough to realize it.

Joe's mother walked into the sitting room. She was visibly upset by the death of her father. Joe stood up and gave her a hug and a kiss on the cheek. He took her hand and led her to the old man. "Ma. This is Luigi Zanello. Luigi. This is my mother, Louise." As they shook hands, a big smile came to Luigi's face. In all the hours they had been talking, Joe had never told Luigi his mother's name. In Italian, it was the feminine form of his name. Louise looked at her son. "We have some things to do now, Joe", she said quietly. "Alright Mom" Joe answered her. He turned to Luigi and said, "Hey, Luigi. How about I come visit on Saturday?"

"I'll be here, Joe. Probably still sitting in this room."

The two laughed and said good bye.

Joe's mother put her arm around him. "That was really nice, Joe.", she said, as they walked down the hall. Joe turned his head toward the sitting room. "Yeah, Ma. It really was."

©2006 M. Eileen O’Dea all rights reserved

First of many to come

The Green Cabinet

by

M. Eileen O’Dea ©2005 all rights reserved

Haley and Tim had lived in their two hundred year old farm house for seven years. Haley had finally talked Tim into getting rid of that old metal cabinet in the pantry. It was the only thing in the house that just didn’t fit in. It was white and the previous owners had allowed their children to color all over it. The inside was rusty and Haley hated to keep anything of real value inside. She talked Tim into taking it out to his workshop where it could be put to some good use. Haley had plans to purchase a nice antique cabinet to replace it. Some thing a little woodier that would fit in with the rustic décor of the old house.

It took Tim an hour to move the large thing. Haley stayed far out of his way. As long as he got it out of the house she didn’t care how he did it. Once it was outside she brought her broom and dust pan right into the pantry to sweep up where the cabinet had sat for who knows how many years. She went right to her sweeping not even looking at the wall that had been covered up by the white monstrosity. Once the floor was cleaned up Haley stood back to take a look at the space she would have to fill. That was when she saw it right there on the wall was a green door no bigger than a medicine chest. Its hinges were very old and quite ornate for a farm house. The latch was brass all tarnished from years of neglect and it was locked with a very small padlock.

Haley softly laid her hand on the green door. They had lived there for seven years and never knew it was there. The couple they bought the house from never mentioned it when they showed them the house and they had been very thorough. They must not have known it was their Haley gathered. She lifted the small lock and looked at it. It obviously hadn’t been opened in quite a long time. She wondered what ever happened to the key. She had never come across it in the years they had lived there.

Her mind raced with the possibilities of what could be inside. Maybe some antique apothecaries or maybe even some hidden away jewelry long forgotten. What ever was inside the owner felt the need to lock it away so to them it held some sort of value. By the look of the style of the door and the hardware it looked original to the house. Haley wondered if it could have been hidden away there since the original owners locked it up. But how could it stay so preserved all of those years she wondered. The metal cabinet surly wasn’t that old. It was a true mystery unearthed in the wall of her pantry. Haley was intoxicated by its possibilities. When Tim walked into the pantry she jumped.

“Whoa where were you?” he asked looking at his startled wife. “Hundreds of years ago” she answered as she pointed to the green door. “Look at this.” Tim looked at the door in amazement. “No way, I wonder how long that’s been there.” “A long time I’d say. Look at the hardware and the lock.” He examined the cabinet much the same way Haley had. “Cool” he said “I wonder where the key is.” He played with the lock. “Long

gone I’m sure. Be careful don’t break it.” “Well then how are we going to open it?” Haley thought for a minute. “I suppose we could pick it.” “Come on Haley this thing is ancient. It’s probably all rusted inside. It won’t open the conventional way.” “Well we’re going to try any way.”

Haley went to the kitchen and got a small skewer. She brought it back to the pantry. She carefully inserted it into the lock and tried to move it around but nothing happened. Tim looked at his watch “Well Houdini you’re on your own. I have to go to work.” He gave Haley a kiss “I’ll see you tonight.” “Ok” Haley said still focused on the lock on the door. She wanted that lock open and without breaking it. Before Time was even out of the driveway Haley was in the bedroom gathering up some tools to crack that lock. She grabbed her nail polish remover, a safety pin, a hat pin out of her grandmother’s pin stand and a bunch of tissues. She picked up a small glass bowel from the kitchen as she walked through and brought it all into the pantry.

Haley put some of the nail polish remover in the glass bowel then carefully held it up to the lock and set it into the liquid. It smelled horrible and she laughed when she thought what Tim would think if he could see her now. She didn’t know why but she just knew she was on the right track. She didn’t let the lock soak for too long she didn’t want it to fall apart into the bowel. She patted it dry with some of the tissues and tried to open it with the safety pin. Some of the rust from inside fell out but it didn’t open. So she put down the safety pin and tried the hat pin. It was just a little bit thinner and slid inside just a little farther. She guided it around being careful not to be rough and the lock sprang open. “Wow” she said aloud “It really worked!” She put her high-tech tools aside and got ready to look inside the green cabinet.

Haley took the lock off of the latch and held it in her hand. She slowly opened the latch and pulled the green door open. A musty smell came from inside but when the light from the room reviled what was there the odor was the last thing Haley noticed. There were three shelves inside of the cabinet. On the first there was an old tarnished child’s silver spoon, a hand carved cow all worn from being held and a lock of hair pressed between a folded piece of paper. On the bottom shelf was a photograph of a couple on their wedding day. The woman was quite beautiful and the man very handsome. Next to it laid a beautiful hair comb the same one worn by the woman in the photo and there was a gold locket. Inside were two pictures of the couple taken some years later it looked like.

Haley put the locket back and placed the lock beside it. On the middle shelf was a stack of letters tied together with a faded ribbon. They looked very old and Haley knew enough about antique papers not to touch them with her bare hands. The oils in her skin would decay the paper as it is very fragile due to its age. Haley went to find a pair of cotton gloves she had so she could take a look at them. Her anticipation surprised her. She tried to tell herself that they were probably just some old recipes carried down from generation to generation. But she had a feeling they were something much more. She put on her gloves carefully removed the letters from the cabinet and brought them to the dining room table.

Haley untied the ribbon and counted the letters there were over a dozen of them. Some of them were just too yellow and fallen apart to read. But there were some that were still in pretty good shape. They weren’t in envelopes just neatly folded as they were when they were received. Haley carefully opened the first one in good condition and read it;

March 2, 1865

My dearest Lizbeth,

I have precious little time to write as the fighting is merciless. However I do not want you to worry with such things my love. Oh how I wish I were there at Graystone with you and our precious little William. My Captain assures me the war will be over soon and I will be able to return to you and our beautiful farm. Just the thought of you strolling through the meadow picking wildflowers has gotten me through many a lonely night here in the south. When I sleep I am with you again your raven hair flowing in the mountain breeze. You are wearing that yellow dress you made just after William was born. You look so lovely in that dress. Please wear it for me when I return. What a wonderful sight that would be to witness you in your yellow dress carrying William down the long path to meet me. I shall carry that thought with me until we are together again my love.

Ever faithful,

Edmond

Haley sighed thinking about how it must have been for a young man to be away from his family with only letters to keep them in contact. A chill went down her spine as she remembered the wedding photo. They looked so in love Edmond and Lizbeth. She folded the letter and opened the next one;

March 4, 1865

My beloved Edmond,

I have just put William down to sleep. He looks more and more like you each passing day. Oh how I wish you were here with us to see him grow. Your brother has been very helpful but he is no substitute for you my husband. I long to sleep by your side to feel your strong arms around me. I know a lady shouldn’t speak of such things but I miss you so. I wore that yellow dress you favor the other day. It reminded me of you. It was a bit fancy for just going to town but I did not care. I felt like you were by my side when I wore it.

I pray this awful war will be over soon and you will come home to me and William. The army should not expect a husband and father of a babe to be in such danger. Is pure torture it is. Don’t they know you are needed at home? But I don’t want you to worry about that my love. I want you to take care of your self so you may come home to us safe and sound.

With all of my never ending love,

Lizbeth

Haley put her hand to her heart. She could just imagine how Lizbeth felt. Being a farmers wife in 1865 had to be rough enough then put him being in the middle of the Civil War on top of it. Lizbeth must have been one very strong woman. Haley wasn’t sure if she could be that strong if she had to be. She smiled when she thought about the two of them both mentioning the yellow dress though. She opened the next letter;

March 10, 1865

My Lovely Lizbeth,

So much loss so much despair. Your beautiful memory and spirit is the only thing carrying me through this wretched war. My images of you are the only ray of sunshine in this entire mess. If I didn’t know you were at home waiting for me I simply could not go on any longer. You are my rock my dear I hope you know that. And I do not want you to allow me to forget it when I get back to you. A proud man has no place in this world Lizbeth. I have seen that out here. A man has to know his strengths and you are mine my love.

Forever yours,

Edmond

March 12, 1865

My beloved Edmond,

It has rained for three full days Edmond. Some of the neighbors’ fields are flooded over. We are lucky though being up on the hills as our fields are fine and will be ready for planting right on time. So you bring your self home to see the corm and wheat waving in the breeze my love. They say the war looks to be coming to an end.

I’ve bought some new yard goods to make a new dress for your return. I’ll not ware it until you come walking up that long path to us Edmond. It will be a dress just for you. A bit frivolous yes but you are worth it. And your return will be a grand celebration worth frivolity at the very least. Oh my Edmond when you come home I will celebrate you every day for the rest of your life.

Your dearest Lizbeth

March 16, 1865

My treasured Lizbeth,

I got your letter today the one about you wearing that yellow dress. Just the thought of you wearing it for shopping makes me smile. I shall read your letter over and over as smiles are hard to come by these days. Jonesy has joined our ranks today. While it is nice to see someone from home it saddens me that such a young boy of fourteen must come here to fight this miserable war. He tells me he saw you and William before he left. He says my boy is growing by leaps and bounds and I should be proud. That I am Lizbeth yet I wish I were there to see him grow. It feels years since I’ve seen the two of you. Just eight months and I am starting to forget what he looks like. But not you my love you come to me every night in my dreams. Where I am clean again and you are just as beautiful as the wretched day I had to leave you. Keep the faith Lizbeth I’ll be coming home to you soon.

Ever yours,

Edmond

March 17, 1865

Dearest Edmond,

I visited Mrs. Jones today my love. She is beside her self having sent her young Jonesy off to fight. He tried to look proud the day he left but I could see he was frightened. They should never taken one so young especially since he is all that his mother has left now. If he should cross your path my love please watch over him for his mother’s sake a mother worries so.

We are told that General Lee is faltering and is ready to surrender. Oh I pray this news is true this horrid war has gone on far too long and far too many lives have been lost. The cause is true but at what cost my love? They are starting to refer to this war as a civil war. There is nothing civil about it, it is barbaric is what it is. We will all be better off when it is all over. So many blacks are migrating up north Edmond. I can not imagine there are many left to fight for in the south any more.

Well take care my love you are in my every thought and dream. I tell William of you every eve before he goes to sleep. We are both eagerly awaiting your return.

Eternally yours,

Lizbeth

March 20, 1865

My precious Lizbeth,

The southern troops seem to fight as though they are already defeated. It is hardly a war anymore as we don’t have the heart to fight men who can not or will not fight back. I feel the end is very near. Every day we see more and more blacks walking their way up north. They have nothing to keep them going except the freedom given to them by their owners who have already given up the fight themselves. It dose the heart good though to know they are free people now. by the look of determination in their eyes I believe they will make it Lizbeth. This gives me reason why I have been fighting this wretched war.

Jonesy has been lifting my spirits with stories from home. He tells me our farm looks well as do you and William. This gladdens me though I can not be there with you. I feel that soon I will be. Once I am my love I do not plan on ever leaving you again. This I solemnly vow to you. You will never have to be alone again my love.

Faithfully yours,

Edmond

There were only three more letters two of which were readable. Haley’s mind was back in 1865. She saw the house as it was as Lizbeth sat to write to Edmond as little William slept by her side. She opened the first of the last two letters;

April 5, 1865

My Darling Edmond,

Your brother is readying the fields to plant as I write. He has been a God send in your absence but no substitute I’m afraid. There are some things a brother in law simply can not stand in for. Not for a lonely wife who misses her beloved husband. It is a beautiful spring day here at Graystone. I shall put on my yellow dress and go for a stroll in the meadow and think of you my precious Edmond. When you return you will join me on such a stroll on a sunny day. We will find the time for that you and I Edmond. Life is far too precious a thing to let the little things pass you by. I have learned that in your long absence.

News from the Capital sounds very good this week. Perhaps you will be home before the first seedlings sprout in my vegetable garden. Oh how wonderful that would be. I look forward to that day with my every breath my love. We will be together very soon.

Your devoted wife,

Lizbeth

April 9, 1865

My Beloved Lizbeth,

We have just received word that General Lee had surrendered. This wretched war is finally over and I can return home to you and our son. I’m sure I don’t have to tell you how this news has lifted my spirits. My thoughts are now consumed with finding my way home. Mt captain tells me if all goes well I should be walking up that long path of Graystone in just three weeks. Oh Lizbeth my heart can not wait to see you there in that new dress you made for the occasion with William in your arms. I will try to continue to write but I do not know where I will be. Rest assured though I will be on my way home to you my love just as fast as the good Lord can take me there.

Your very loving husband,

Edmond

Haley was crying as she read the end of the letter. She imagined that Lizbeth had probably gotten it about a week before Edmond returned home. Haley herself felt an excitement as if Edmond was returning to her. She had gotten lost in the letters. For just a while she was Lizbeth longing for her Edmond to come home from war. When she finally came back to present day she wiped her tears and tied the letters back up with the ribbon. She carefully put them back in the green cabinet and put the lock back on the latch. She closed the lock and laid her hand on the green door. Everything inside belonged there she realized that. It was its home where it was meant to be. That was why it was still there after all of those years. Others must have read the letters just like Haley had and just like her they too knew they forever belonged in the green cabinet.

The End

"Selling" Pets on Craigslist

True story about rehoming pets using Craigslist. Some people may not agree but you can find a good home using Craigslist. Tips on posting and what to look out for when posting pets on Craigslist.

Selling" Pets on Craigslist

Sign the Petition on the BP Oil Spill

The truth behind the BP Gulf Oil Spill and what the mainstream media IS NOT telling us. Links to email your representatives in Congress along with vital information on the oil spill. Be informed!

Sign the Petition on the BP Oil Spill

My Cat Just Died

A tribute to my beautiful cat Perdy who died this week. Anyone who loves cats knows how it feels. It's been a hard week and I miss Perdy constantly.

My Cat Just Died

Book Video Trailer: A Place Called Home

Buy Mud Pie Clothing Online

If you are a mother/grandmother of kids you will want to take a look at the adorable kids clothing by a company called Mud Pie. I dressed my newborn granddaughter for her first photo shoot in her new Mud Pie clothing that I bought online. Just adorable!!

Buy Mud Pie Clothing Online

I Didn't Ask to Be Born!

Ever heard some child yelling at their parents, saying, “I didn’t ask to be born!” Uh, oh yes you did.

Your birth was not an accident. It was not even fate. You, your spirit, your essence, your “I-ness,” your energy, whatever you want to call it, [b][i]chose[/i][/b] to incarnate on the Earth. You had the freewill to make the choice of being born at this time. Remember, freewill must always remain intact. It is a law of the Universe. You chose to incarnate because you chose evolution rather than stagnation. That’s the way it works. You must choose. If you don't go through the process of choosing and learning then how can you evolve? If you are forced to go through your existence with no choices then you are certainly not evolving. You may not remember making the choices, right now anyway, but you did.

It might be you even chose your circumstances, chose your parents, chose the obstacles you’ve come up against. You may have chosen those challenges to teach yourself something that you knew you would need to know in order to either evolve (grow and learn) or to complete a mission (service to others.) Living in poverty may teach you humility. Being bullied may teach you compassion. Being judged may teach you tolerance. Making mistakes may teach you to forgive. So, when things seem to go very wrong for you, remember, this life, these circumstances, you (your sub-conscious mind or higher self) chose them. The reason is usually to have a catalyst for learning so that you may evolve. There is no one to blame for what you have experienced. Not God, not the Universe, nor your rotten luck, or the “family curse,” and certainly not any human being.

All that being said, I believe one of the main reasons we've chosen to be here at this time was because it was our intent to come and make a difference. We knew that this time would be an extraordinary time, a time when the world is rapidly changing, a time when the people of the world would awaken to see through the veil and know who they truly are. For many who have been born within the past 20 years, you may feel as if there is something you’re right on the verge of remembering. That something is your legacy.

Excerpt from Michael's Dream, End Hatred-Change the World

Available at Amazon

The Lost Art of Painting on Windows

Ever wonder who those artists are that paint those holiday windows on storefronts? I'm one of them! Here is an article that I wrote about my exploits as an "extreme" window artist. I did hundreds of windows for Trader Joes and 24 Hour Fitness for many many years. This article explains how I got started and how my window painting career evolved. I have some pictures of my work here in the article too. Enjoy!

The Lost Art of Painting on Windows

A RATIONALE BEYOND LIGHT !

My exposer to Physics at high school happened about six months after I could fairly understand english..till then I knew science as General science only.

An year n knowing physics in terms of Matter,Sound,Light,Energy,Heat N interactive forces then exposer to Structure of matter,Molecules,Atoms and then Atom itself whence I was to learn that about 2.5 million Atoms sit upon Tip of a needle.

My curiosity though ignorant on finer aspects ; break Atom I did in my mind beyond available data to an extent of Quarks .

Einsteins' Noble Prize winning energy equation E=MCxC implored me to think Light itself as most basic matter though I didnt know photon as most basic light.

Light Knows their Children ; Light is Life ; Soul ; Spirit ; Affection ; Love ; One Imperishable Him.

Once my high school maths teacher said,

" My goal is prove existence of God through Maths "

I then started thinking ON " A RATIONALE beyond Light ".

My posts on relative Significance ,

1 : An Implored Call on God ...... At Yuwie and Myspace

2 : Simple Logic ........................ At Yuwie

3 : Pure Logic .......................... At Yuwie and The Portfolio .

4 : Intutions and Reflections..... At Yuwie and The Portfolio

5 : Soothing Shadows ............. At Yuwie MySpace and The Portfolio.

Charan

Dorsi Diaz: SF Climate Change Examiner

Dorsi Diaz: SF Climate Change Examiner
My new position as reporter on Climate Change over at the SF Examiner online paper. Come over and check out the real scoop on climate change: the good, the bad and the ugly.

Want to be a Reporter? Here's Your Chance!

Want to be a Reporter? Here's Your Chance!
My latest article about writing for the Examiner. If you like to write you'll want to check this out. I just started my new position as SF Climate Change reporter, and they have many more positions to fill around the country.

How to Vaccinate a Puppy

How to Vaccinate a Puppy

This is a step by step article on how to give your own puppy vaccinations. It's possible to do yourself but you need to learn the steps on how to give dog shots.

What Is The Nigerian Scam?

What Is The Nigerian Scam?
My latest article about the "Nigerian" or 419 scam. Don't fall victim to online scammers who will wipe out your life savings. Read and let all your friends know this scam is still going strong, and people are still falling victim to it, with no recourse. If something seems to be good to be true on the internet, it probably is!

One Life Giver One Life Provider !

THUS SPOKE THE WATER TO MAN...................

I am water a truth

Pure seem pure stature

Transparent Truth

Life to live nature

'Ekk Onkar Satnam' means

God is One

He gives life

He is heart of life

Almighty God Him

His name The Truth

Soil my habitat I live in greens

I live in him I live in her

Provide him life I provide her life

Provider of life to every living being

In pure seem purest stature .

Food no food taste is no taste

Air no air breath is no breath

Its me you drink its me you eat

Whatever the form intake .

Bared off me life is no life

bared off me nothing lives

Absorbeth me dust absorbeth stone

Shape result shape alive

In him I live in her I live

Life I live - destiny all around .

They call Him God

They call Him Truth

I am no God I am a truth

He gives life I provide life .

He lives up there so you spell

Uphold you always Him up there

Humle me dweleth down below

Floweth me down the shortest way .

Yes humblest of humble me the water

My unltimate habitat the bottomest bottom .

You gave Him name then names too many

Broke His name distorted His name

Satyug to Treta and Dwapar to Kalyug

Live nature you hurt then ill-willed life

Maligning you are now me the water

Malignancy it is of life your own

Malignantly yes life all around .

My lone identity my lone desire

My lone life is life your own

Humblest of humble me the water

Asketh I of you begeth me of you

Call me neer may you call me jal

Let me please live pure .

Or as you distorted God mine God yours

Bring you shall death unto me unto You .

Fire Proof Your Marriage

Fire Proof Your Marriage
Is your marriage in trouble? Are you facing insurmountable problems within your marriage? This is a must read and must see movie for married people......and those considering marriage. Great family movie. FIREPROOF YOUR MARRIAGE!

The Chihuahua Puppy Chronicles

The Chihuahua Puppy Chronicles
My latest article on my new adventures with 2 chihuahua puppies. How would have thought???

SOOKHI MERI KALAM UDAAS

Sooni sooni O bagiya meri !


Na bhaaye moye chitt na patt
Soone bhaye mere jeewat haath

Mann bhi soona tann bhi soona
Bhaye soone mere hosh hawaas .

Aisee sookhi aankhein meri
Sookha jyon pathhar bin payaas

Sookhi dwaat mai syahi yaaro
Sookh gayi meri Kalam udaas.



Some translation :

sooni bagia : lonesome , aloof habitat
sookhi aankhein : dry eyes
pathar bin pyas : stone has no thirst
dwaat : ink pot
sookhi syahi : dry ink
udaas : sad and aloof
kalam : a sharpened bamboo stick to dip in ink pot to write .

Poem summerised :

aloof lonesome habitat
head or tails lost meaning
dry aloof hands , lonely heart
no feelings within ;
numb body stature , numb intellect
eyes dried ( as after tears )
as dry as stone is without thirst
so did dry the ink pot
so dried to aloofness the sad lonely kalam .

Ribbit

Ribbit

A man made of dust, a rib-bitch,
a “smart” apple, and a singing serpent…
Holy shit!
Sounds like the makings of a Carroll
or a Dickens, but it isn’t…
It’s the beginning of us, folks.
This is the opening salvo of the Word,
the Holy Bible, for which,
whether you believe it or not,
we are all partly liable…

Honestly now, who in good faith
can subscribe to a Way that flatly condemns
four billion non-believers to Hell in a handbag,
no questions asked, to say nothing
of at least another billion hypocrites?
How presumptuous is that? And inane!
No wonder the Muslims are pissed!

Oh, ribbit! Ribbit, ribbit!
The frogs are calling. Can’t you hear them?
Come join in this “sing-along” and become a part
of first sub-par soap opera in human history.
All you have to do is confess your sins,
swear allegiance to JC and give, give, give,
until it hurts so good
that you can’t possibly feel bad anymore–
or much of anything else, for that matter,
including your pocket book!

There’s just no arguing the lunacy of this plot:
give everything you’ve got
for the promise of a mansion in Paradise
(They don’t have any down here.)
and the deal is done! –
the Lexus deal, that is, for Brother Bob,
who’s currently shooting your wad
on a double-bogie on the back nine
at Marina Del Ray, where they say
the “fishing” is really good!

But, of course, the “plot” is good…
How could two billion people be wrong?
Right. Put another way:
how could two billion strong be so stupid?
Ignorance helps a lot, and it doesn’t take long
to master what is arguably the oldest con game
“to the end of the world.”


Copyright © 2008 Richard David Kennedy: Guilt, By Association: Collected Short Stories & Incidental Music. All rights reserved under international copyright conventions. No part of the contents of this book may be reproduced or utilized in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without the written consent of the author.

FIVE horror anthologies for Halloween consumption - by Tamara Wilhite and co-authors!

Five new horror anthologies co-written by Tamara Wilhite - in print, eBook, AND Amazon Kindle!

“Deadly Dolls” anthology

On Amazon Kindle: http://www.amazon.com/Deadly-Dolls-New-Horror-Anthology/dp/B001HBI6G6/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1223326439&sr=8-1

With a print edition coming out soon on Lulu.com.

“Genres” Anthology

In PRINT: http://www.lulu.com/content/2992777

Amazon Kindle: http://www.amazon.com/Genres/dp/B001C7DHQE/ref=sr_1_4?ie=UTF8&s=digital-text&qid=1223326630&sr=1-4

New Voices In Horror Anthology - Volume 1 (New Voices In Horror Anthology)

eBook PDF: http://www.lulu.com/content/4140670

Kindle Edition: http://www.amazon.com/New-Voices-Horror-Anthology/dp/B001FOQXS8/ref=pd_rhf_f_t_k2a_3

“The Dead City Chronicles”

Download PDF: http://www.lulu.com/content/2488055

On Amazon Kindle: http://www.amazon.com/The-Dead-City-Chronicles/dp/B00192IDUM/ref=pd_rhf_f_t_k2a_2

Fiction Prodigies And Legends Volume 1 -Interviews with the New Voices In Horror

IN PRINT: http://www.lulu.com/content/3937785

Amazon Kindle edition:

http://www.amazon.com/Fiction-Prodigies-Legends-Interviews-Voices/dp/B001FOQV9O/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&s=digital-text&qid=1223326714&sr=1-1