A Point in Time

Whenever I see old houses, particularly old abandoned farmhouses, I wonder about the people who lived there. I think of hardworking people who lived off the land, had their babies, lived their lives and experienced deaths inside those doors. It's a shame that these old houses can't speak. There are stories that we will never hear.

Brad and I live in an old farmhouse now. We do know a little of its history. It was at one time a dairy farm. A family lived here. The father died relatively young. The widow still lives nearby. Still, there are mysteries.

This little building sits on the property. It is falling down, but we wonder. What is it? There is a chimney and a place for a fire inside. A window has been boarded over. There are steps to the door. A groundhog lives underneath. Its face was one of the first things we saw when we came here.

Maybe I will meet the woman who lived here someday. I would love to find out more about the house, its history and the little building outside. Until then, I wonder.

More Questions than Answers

Lots of things to think about after the horrific tragedy at an elementary school in Connecticut. I am sure that many of the "facts" being reported now will be corrected and changed in the weeks ahead. What does not change is that 20 children and 6 adult educators are gone forever and their families are left dealing with the aftermath.

It appears that a disturbed young man had ready access to guns. It also appears that his own mother was the legal owner providing that access. If this is true, it begs the question; if his mother knew her son was disturbed, why did she give him access to weapons? If true, she bears some of the blame. If true, she paid with her life as well.

Ultimately, the young man, no matter how disturbed, is the responsible party. As a nation, however, we face vital questions. How can we stop this from happening again? How can we ensure that people with violent mental illnesses do not have the ability to legally obtain weapons? How do we determine the exact state of mental illness? Does it include those who may have at one time experienced depression? How far do we go? So many questions.

Enjoying the holidays?

I have never been one to get depressed during the holiday season. Because of my mother's religious beliefs, we didn't celebrate holidays as children. When I grew up and started celebrating, I had to create my own traditions. I love the decorating and try to create that "warm" holiday feeling. I don't feel down until after the new year, when there are weeks and weeks of dreary winter left. But, that's another story.

This year, we have an unusual reason to be a bit worried and stressed. It's nothing like the horrible family deaths and job losses we suffered a few years ago, but it is putting a damper on the season. The dilemma is how to put the worries aside and enjoy each day.

I keep telling myself not to let someone else spoil my happiness. Why let her have that power over me? Why should her actions take my joy? In an effort to take back control, I am purposely, except for this writing, not thinking or talking about her or her actions. Is it working? Somewhat. It is difficult not to think about it. It is a  subject of conversation, so it's really hard not to talk about it! But, I do feel some of my holiday happiness returning. In the long run, dealing with this person is just a ripple in the sand.

Where Does the Time Go?

A very long hiatus. Too long. No excuses, I have no idea why myself. I just know that now I have to get back here.

Moving on....

I am now "meandering" from an old farmhouse in PA. I absolutely love it. I feel so much more at home here than the old place. It is a bit noisier and I am sure the heating bills will go sky high, but this feels so much better to me.

More later, just wanted to get back into it here.

Why I Love Books

I got a Kindle for my birthday. I come to the e-book format with reluctance. After all, haven't I worked with and loved books all of my life? I love the way a book feels in my hand, I love the smell, the texture of the page, and, if borrowed or used, the journey each book may have taken before. That journey is often marked on the book in some way. Its history in a note from the giver to the receiver.

I am a club member at PaperBackSwap.com. Club members trade books with one another, paying only for the postage. A book lover's dream club.

I recently received a book from PaperBackSwap.com called  "Between Ourselves: Letters Between Mothers and Daughters 1750-1982", edited by Karen Payne and published in 1982. It is about the relationships between mothers and daughters as revealed by their letters to each other over five hundred years. Compiled at a time when it was OK to call oneself a "feminist", the letters in the book cover many different mother/daughter relationships, from the loving friendships that sometimes occurs to the sometimes hateful ones, and everything in between. 

The copy I received has the following note written on the inside cover:

In 1984, someone who signed herself "M" gave this very book to Vicki. Could "M" stand for "Mom?" Makes sense. "M" has a smiley face under it. I conclude that mom and daughter have a good relationship in 1984. I wonder where they are now, 27 years later. Of course, I may be completely wrong in my assumptions. That's OK, though. This book has a history. It was given with love in 1984. If I had gotten this book in Kindle format, I would never have seen and wondered about this warm-hearted gift. 

There are things about the Kindle that I like. I like being able to get a book instantly and not have to wait for it to be delivered. I like that you can change the font size to make reading easier. I like the Kindle much better than I thought I would. 

I do feel a sense of loss, however, when I think that e-books do not carry their history with them. That will be missed. 

Spring Comes Hard

I know, it's typical for spring. Snow one day, 70 degrees the next. Snow at this time of year is particularly galling, though. It doesn't last long, but the fact that it appears at all  is just plain irritating! Both the calendar and the groundhog say SPRING!

Still, we get some gorgeous sunsets this time of year.

Fluffy Comes to Visit

Fluffy

My sister's dog, Fluffy, is visiting for a few days while her mom is out of town.

I have always loved Fluffy. She is a little Papillon/Chihuahua mix and is just adorable. Except for a disgruntled Margot Cat, everyone is getting along great. Margot manages to spit at Fluffy every time she walks by.

No other news from Eureka Road, except that I wish spring would arrive and stay for awhile. I did see two robins on Saturday, but I am sure they headed south on Sunday! What a long winter this has been.