Imagine If Palin Said This

I would link to the YouTube statement from Sarah Palin claiming that she can see Russia from her porch…but…um…she never said it so I can’t. So here’s the Democrat equivalent…the only difference…Martha Coakley actually said this…it’s not a parody. (Full disclosure: I will vote for Scott Brown.)

What’s the Date?

Date: October 16, 2009.

Place: Leominster, Massachusetts.

Time: 7:00 am – 9:20 am.

Unusual Event: Snow.

Yippee!!!

Calling Ghost Hunters

Last week, Hubby and I took our yearly visit to La-La Land, aka the Berkshires. The foliage was near peak though the weather wasn’t what we hoped. It rained throughout the afternoon of the first day and it was mostly cloudy on the second. But one must make lemonade out of lemons and that’s what we did. We did the old couple thing of driving around looking at the scenery and we got in a three mile hike at Clarksburg State Forest.

We stayed at Jiminy Peak in Hancock, MA., a ski resort along the NY border. Our room, Room 111, was a suite with a kitchenette and separate living room. It was there that Hubby experienced the paranormal. I headed off to bed around 9 pm. Hubs wanted to stay up to experience the glorious flat screen t.v. At one point, he noticed a glowing ball of light, three feet off the floor, out of the corner of his eye. When he turned to look at it full on, it was gone. He thought he was just tired, so he forgot about it.

The next morning, we were lying in bed talking and he told me about the “ball.” I thought he was pulling my leg, so I didn’t believe him. I eventually got up, dressed, and walked into the living room. I noticed the coffee table, which was parallel to the couch last night, was moved at a 45 degree angle. When Hubby joined me, I asked if he moved the table. Hubs looked at me and said, “No.” We just looked at each other for a few seconds. Honestly, I still didn’t believe him. It wasn’t until I heard him relate the story to his folks that I took him seriously.

So, if you own a digital recorder, book Room 111 in the Country Lodge at Jiminy Peak. You might get something.

Now THAT’S a Treehouse

Buckland, MA - October 2009.

Small Treasures

I’ve written about St. Cecilia’s Cemetery many times. It’s an unassuming Catholic burial spot in the middle of a working class neighborhood. The cemetery is the place of my (almost daily) constitutional and it’s been that place for nearly a year. Yet, I find new images that catch my eye. Perhaps it’s the slant of sunlight hitting a statue just so or it’s just my eyes pointed at the right place, at the right time. I kick myself for not carrying a camera.

Today I got smart and did just that. Here’s what I saw:

Adaline Panquette's Medieval Messenger

Overgrown Angel

Faded Madonna

Pomarium Visitavo

Delectable Cortlands

Impressed with my expanding Latin vocabulary? Honestly, I had to look up the imperfect past tense of visitare. But I think it correctly reads, I visited an orchard. Cicero would be proud…

It’s the veritas…Hubby and I went to Sholan Farms in Leominster, MA. Believe it or not, the Plastics City isn’t all concrete jungle. The area alongside Sterling is lovely and that’s where the orchard is located. Going on a Friday morning is the right time…not too many folks.

This was only my second time apple picking. You would think being a native New Englander I would have done it since my wee childhood. But, alas, that’s not the case. (I don’t like lobster, either. I’m THIS close to surrendering my New England citizenship.)

We picked a peck of Cortlands, McIntoshes and Golden Delicious. I have visions of apple crisps and squash/apple soups coming out of my galley kitchen. Ask me in two weeks how sick I am of apples.

In the meantime, check out my Flickr site to view apples in their native environment.

Way To Go Westport!

You folks from Wesport must be so proud of your Representative on Beacon Hill! Not only did he vote IN FAVOR of the increased sales tax, including keeping the excise tax on alcohol (love the double tax on that product), he buys his liquor, not in your town, but in New Hampshire! So sorry you packy stores on Route 6 and Lee’s Market on Main Road.

That's Michael Rodrigues' sedan with the House plate.

Here’s the low-down.

The Visitor

The plot is near the back. The grass in the 10×3 f00t rectangle is greener than the surrounding lawn. At the head is an overload of garden paraphernalia: solar-paneled glow lights, pinwheels, and non-military flags. The plot is too new for a gravestone yet there is a picture of a young man in his late teens smiling into the camera. 

And she’s there nearly everyday around noon. She sits cross-legged on the edge of the plot, head bowed, picking the dark green grass between her fingers. Sometimes a man is with her. He leans against the car, arms folded, looking down at her. Is he tolerating her visits or is his grief not as visible?

This tableau is not unique to St. Cecilia’s in Leominster. It’s repeated in every cemetery.

Tea Party

I attended my first political protest! Yes…I was one of those right-wing nuts who took part in a tea party. This one was in Worcester, MA. I wasn’t sure how many would show up. Would I be one of five waving our little signs outside the Auditorium? About a block away I heard amplified voices and when I arrived at Lincoln Square a strong crowd had gathered.

I took a spot along the street and held my sign which read, “I’m the angry tax-paying citizen Homeland Security warned you about.” There were a line-up of speakers but I just wanted to hang out by the street and watch the reactions of the drivers.

Many cars honked in agreement with the 1,500 protesters of all ages. Bus drivers. Ambulance drivers. Worcester policemen. Small business owners driving their courier vans and pick-up trucks. The 18 wheelers making all feel like kids when they pulled the whistle.

There were a few drivers exercising their first amendment rights.

• A woman who yelled out, “Why do you hate black people so much?” (She missed the African American dude standing not too far from me.) Classic ruse to shut down any argument – you are racist.
• A college-aged man who screamed, “F**k You! F**k You!” as he drove past the crowd. Unfortunately he had the green light so he couldn’t stop and defend his position.
• A young woman gave the finger. Or was she picking her nose? Again, too bad she had the green light.

Overall, there was way more support from passerbys than not. Around 6 pm the tea party was wrapping up and it was getting chilly. I clapped the sign under my arm and walked back to the Matrix. Not bad for my first protest. I’d do it again.

The Living

Some people scratch their heads when they hear I jog in a cemetery.

“Creepy”

“Morbid”

“Scary”

Honestly, I have more stories about the living who roam St. Cecilia’s than I do about those resting peacefully.

Case in point:

Earlier today I took my morning constitutional and was enjoying having the whole place to myself. Then I noticed a car crawling slowly around the outer loop. That didn’t catch my attention since most cars move slowly among the gravestones as the drivers search for a loved one, childhood friend or work colleague. What caught my eye was the driver side door was open while it was in motion.

Since we were in a intersecting projectory, my curiosity was soon satisfied. A woman in her late 50’s was WALKING HER FREAKIN’ TOY POODLE. She had one hand was on the steering wheel and the other hand holding the leash.

I thought that perhaps she was handicapped. But I noticed no handicap plates or signs. Then I remembered…

There’s a $125 fine for walking dogs in St. Cecilia’s.

Sometimes I prefer the Dead to the Living.