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About Me
LIVING THE DREAM! This is my life, a dream world filled with adventures, treasures, reflections, laughter, and tears. Welcome to my world. Stay a while and visit. I'm sure you won't be disappointed.
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Sunday, January 7, 2007
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A long time ago
My cousin, DonnaLee, is into geneology big time. She has spent countless hours and unmentional resources researching our family history here and in Europe. Her contacts stretch across the country. I've learned a lot from her and have been able to provide a few lost pieces of information from my immediate family. You see, her dad and my mom were brother and sister. They came from a pretty large family - 7 in all: Edward, Florence, John, Anna, DonnaLee's dad Henry, Walter, and my mom Irene. What came out of all this were stories, lots of stories. Stories about growing up in Buffalo, family businesses, and family relationships.
I've discovered we have a very colorful family. I realize that if I don't write the stories, they will be forgotten forever, so now when I visit Auntie Arlene, I make sure I bring my digital recorder to capture the stories when she gets "in the groove." She forgets the recorder is on and the words flow, bringing the world of yesteryear back to the present. I watch her relive the life she lead as she shares her version of the stories. Some things I remember (from the 50's and later); other things happened before I was even a glimmer in anyone's eye. She tells tales of life in the bar on Broadway and Rummel, gangs on the streets, bootleg liquor and prohibition, the Great Depression of the 30's, and prosperity later on. She has seen so much during her 78 years that I want to hear it all. Not just the stories of what happened, but how it made her feel. I guess it's the why that I need to know. Why did these things happen and how does it make a difference in a person's life? If we don't remember, then what is difference what happens?
I run an Inn. I've discovered that everyone who visits me has a story. We need to listen more to what others have to say. It gives their life meaning.
Every day is different at the Inn. Sometimes challenging. Sometimes mundane. But never boring. It's not a traditional job in the sense I work on home. I already have several stories about life at an Inn. For example, I'm on a first name basis with my plumber... what does that tell you?
I have guests tonight which means I will be making breakfast tomorrow morning. They are here for a funeral. For sure, tomorrow will not be boring!
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Saturday, January 6, 2007
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Nap in the Woods
I sit curled up on the couch, Sam snuggled up next to me. His purring is comforting. The fire burns, warming the room. I add another log, greatful for the heat. It's quiet. I feel safe... for the moment. I stare at the blaze as it consumes the wood. It amazes me how much heat that single log produces. My eyes feel heavy. They close. I dream.
I walk along the creek, the water rushing, full from recent rain. The woods are thick and dark. I stare into the trees, listening. The winds blows through the bare limbs causing creaks and snaps as weak branches and twigs fall to the ground unable to resist. I hear a twig crunch and twist around trying to catch the culprit. I see no one. The light is waning. The woods darker. I should go back, but I'm not sure where that is. I barely breathe as I feel my heart pounding. As I begin to move, my legs feel heavy as though they are trapped in muck or silt. I struggle to pull up my legs and place them one in front of the other. I work hard to run but am hardly moving. I hear the crunch of leaves and twigs behind me. Bushes rustle. I force my legs to move, pumping my arms, breathing hard, fear rising up from the pit of my stomach. Movement is difficult. I remember I am sleeping. I begin to scream, "Wake up! Wake up!" I trip and hit the ground hard. I cover my head and begin to cry. As I roll over, I see it as it jumps.
My eyes open wide. I gasp. The bloods trickles down the side of my cheek. Sam jumps off the couch to the safety of the floor.
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