What To Write?

 Sucking the tip.


         Gripping it's feathery length. So hard to hold with any dexterity in your hand. A hand so chapped and worn from the lye soap and boiling water. Be damned!


         Katie threw down the quill and wrung her tired hands in anguish! "What shall I say?"

      What on this heaven's earth could she write to an American man she had never yet met?


A Mr Werbowski. 

           Ma had told her that he was Polish from Poland, but he was in America? Would she be able to have a conversation with him? Would he understand her lilting Irish speech? 


         "Sure and 'tis enough o' that!" She drew her dainty feet firmly beneath her chair, set her teeth and again clenched the fragile quill in her right hand. She started:

Dear Mr Werbowski,

       (Would 'Dear' be too personal? She hadn't met the man!  Well, she pondered, that was how she'd been taught the way to write a proper letter was and by gor! She'd at least be proper! Mebe' this Polish man wouldna' have any schooling, but she did and she'd be proper about this whole affair, she would!)

          My brother has said many good things of you and your wonderful farm in Missouri. It sounds truly beautiful and not at all like my home in Belfast. I am grateful that my brother has sent enough money for me to come to such a wonderful country full of such plenty and has befriended a kind and successful man such as yourself. 

          (Whew! Katie wiped her brow. She wasn't used to speaking so many words at once! This letter writing was na' what it was held up ta' be!

    Her brother had written a letter simply stating that this man was looking for a 'comely' woman of child bearing years to marry and work the farm with him. Her Ma and Da had told her she was comely, even pretty on the occasion of her birthday, but... and here she tucked a stray curl of strawberry hair behind her ear, but would a Polish man think she was pretty? What did Polish women look like? Lor'! She had never laid eyes on one herself! 

      Katie had read the letter to her Ma and Da because of course, they couldn't read. The three of them sitting around the harsh wooden kitchen table and sitting on the stools of many generations handed down. The firelight had made the words from America come alive! Her breath had come quicker in her chest just at the thought of America! Land o' the free and so much plenty and space! Could it be true that a man wanted to bring her there?

        "Ma! Da! What should I do? How ca' I leave you both?" Katie had cried the words, flinging them out to the loving ears of her parents.

            "An' go you will child," was her mother's gentile voice. "Aye! Go my girl of my heart and you don' na' turn back! Yer Ma and me'l get by an' live happier knowin' you've got a better life!"

         

         "Da! Should I go to the priest? Da! Should I?"

         And her Da had scrunched his bristly eyebrows together, gently slammed a clenched fist to the table top and with vehemence, but also an indoor voice, proclaimed: " The priest won't feed ya or look after ya! You go!" And with that he had shoved off his stool and slammed out the door!

         Ma had said later that it was his way of dealing with the "losin' o' his rosie haired girl!"

          

            And that had been the whole conversation that had decided her fate!)

        I have considered your kind offer of marriage and have spoken long with my father and priest and I write to you now to let you know that I will accept!

        (It was a small lie to say about the priest she knew, but gor! It needed to sound like she had a head about her!)

         I come by train and I am hoping you will be at the station to pick me up. 

      (The boat and train tickets had taken all of her savings and her brother's bits would need to pay for her food! The ticket master had knowingly told her that Missouri was almost half way across America and that was farther than she could imagine? She had clutched her shawl to her breast and shivered as if it was January and it being only September!
      And how on earth would she find his farm if he didn't come to meet her?  Katie whispered a prayer as her hand continued this letter of new life... "Please god! Let him be a man who would meet his new wife!" Her fingers swung the sign of the cross on her chest.)

    I must apologize for traveling with a trunk and hope it will not be an inconvenience.

    (Her ma and her had been stitching and tucking away since she'd come to womanhood in preparation of this time. A decent girl came with a dowry. It didn't matter it wasn't grand or a whole house worth, but she'd need some necessities in the wilds of America she would!
      Her normal spunk surfaced for just one moment and raised itself above the terror of her enterprise. "He'd better no mind!"
       She gazed toward the eternally grit soaked window, clenched her teeth in determination and finished her letter. )

         Your offer is very kind and I await our marriage and new life. I promise to work very hard and make you proud of your new Irish wife.

        Yours truly,

              Katie Donovan

         Very deliberately, the fine boned Irish lass her parents had named Katie, lifted the stub of tallow candle and gently dripped a splash of wax upon the folds of her letter to seal.

            Katie flung the pen across the floor with a clatter and sobbed...

      

The Letter

The paper came from pennies made with her sweat and the muscle wrenching wringing of other people's clothes. The boiling water to wash them in had been the back breaking labor of carrying the buckets from the only tap in the square. The fire under the enormous cast iron kettle built from precious kindling. (There was no "hot and cold" here in this time and place.) The soap; sparingly shaved from a hard brick of harsh lye.

She had saved each and every penny that hadn't been needed to feed the family. Saved and saved and when her brother had finally come to rescue her with such news, she had been ready.


 For she knew that she would not, could not stay in this city!


 The filth and misery that was the place of her birth would be replaced with a greener, wider country that they promised was free of conflict between this religion and that. Cousin against cousin and neighbor against neighbor. It would never stop.


 Katie felt her red rimed eyes fill with tears as she picked up her pen to write the letter.


 Dear Mr Werbowski..... She began.....

John Werbowski

John couldn't help but pace the width of the gateway in frustration.

"Damn! The cursed man should be here by now!" His feet would not hold him in one spot and he resumed his pacing back and forth....

 ...Back and forth across the entrance to his farm.

 And keeping the vigil with him was his mongrel Jack.

 "Jack!" Mr Werbowski always talked to the gold colored mutt like he was a human. "Jack! Do you think it'll get here today?"

But, of course Jack had nothing to say. Just a tail wag and a lop sided grin that was more from thirst than anything.

Mr John Werbowski, thirty seven years of age was a successful farmer. He raised crops that provided many bushels of grain. His cows and sheep gave more than enough milk to use at his own table and a bit to churn yellow butter from and sell at the market on Saturdays. The jug on the mantel was stuffed to the brim with coins and he had possession of a rare thing: A bank account.

Mr Werbowski was well respected and held a position on both the church board and local council and his opinions mattered. Tall and well built, with sandy brown hair and ice blue eyes. He was his mother's son and the spitting image of his father and yet, no one here had wanted him!

 He had waited too long you see. Worked his whole life so far to make a go of this parcel of land and yes, he loved it! Loved the dirt and the blades of grass and even the breezes that blew the dust in his eyes! He loved it! With Jack by his side these last ten years, he had carved out a homestead from this backend piece of America.

...And now that he figured it was time (and it was the time for a wife and please, some children,) the girls were just that, girls and all the women were already married with young-uns and haggard faces and bodies.

"Eh?" John whirled, his eyes searched the dirt road leading from town. He hand shaded his brow against the morning sun and ... "Yes!"

He slapped his thigh and anyone standing there would have just been compelled to guffaw! Mr Werbowski actually danced a jig! (Jack the dog sat plop on his haunches. He had never seen such goings on!)

The horse and nondescript gray cart slowly approached the farm gate and really, Mr Werbowski was wringing his hands by the time the postmaster commanded "whoa!" and wrapped the reins on the doorpost of his wooden mail wagon.  He smiled a toothless smile and greeted: "Hallo there John! I think that letter you've been waiting for has come." He lifted a small white envelope high as if it was a prize. "Do you suppose this is it?"

Mr Werbowski lurched toward the wagon and grabbed the envelope. His senses were tickled with a hint of fresh lilac. His nose involuntarily lowered to the thin parchment of an envelope adorned with fine, fancy handwriting and drew in a heavenly scent. "Ah!" Tears filled his eyes.

"Lord and be govern!" The postman exclaimed! "Well! I never! You have to sign! " He waived a stumpy pencil and Mr Werbowski snatched it up and scrawled his name on the dull paint with the others.

The postman, unaccustomed to such a spectacle of emotion, yanked the reigns and the poor horse lunged in his traces. The small wagon left a dust boil in it's wake, but Mr Werbowski was not paying any attention.

He gently ran his finger along the fold of the envelope and gingerly pulled the pages from the folds. "Jack! Do you suppose?"

He started to read:

"Dear Mr Werbowski,

          My brother has said many good things of you and your wonderful farm in Missouri. It sounds truly beautiful and not at all like my home in Belfast. I am grateful that my brother has sent enough money for me to come to such a wonderful country full of such plenty and has befriended a kind and successful man such as yourself.

        I have considered your kind offer of marriage and have spoken long with my father and priest and I write to you now to let you know that I will accept!

         I come by train and I am hoping you will be at the station to pick me up. I must apologize for traveling with a trunk and hope it will not be an inconvenience.

         Your offer is very kind and I await our marriage and new life. I promise to work very hard and make you proud of your new Irish wife.

        Yours truly,

              Katie Donovan

    Mr Werbowski scuffed a big fist against his cheek, vainly trying to wipe the tears coursing down his face.  His hand reached down to rub the old dogs head.

"Jack my boy! We best get home and throw the windows wide! We're going to have a Missus!"

      
 Can you see his signature? What were all those signatures for? Who were those people and what did they do? I can't help but wonder..... Do you?


These photographs were shot with my Nikon P-90 digital camera and downloaded directly from the camera and then to this blog. My aim is to take my reader along with me on the journey, so although I am aware of my framing of the shot, content and quality, I am most interested in sharing the experience.

Help! The House Is On Fire!

Way back when....




Is it any wonder that when a fire burst out, that the whole city would burn down?

How totally frustrating it must have felt to see someone's home be devoured by hungry flames and have just a trickle of water and not enough of it to boot?


I was raised tagging along to auction sales with my mom because you see, both sides of my families were burnt out and had no heirlooms! We cherish what we do have, but they only go about a generation back!

 What do you have right now in your home that could be the next generation's heirloom?
Is it a piece of sculpture that you bought from some starving artist, or something simple like the jug you brew your sun tea in?


...A couple more pieces from the permanent display at The Henry Ford!


These photographs were shot with my Nikon P-90 digital camera and downloaded directly from the camera and then to this blog. My aim is to take my reader along with me on the journey, so although I am aware of my framing of the shot, content and quality, I am most interested in sharing the experience.

The US Mail

Neither rain nor sleet nor threat of night can stop the US Mail!

This basic wagon was in service delivering the mail.

Imagine finding something like this in a barn or shed!

 The whole surface is covered with signatures!

 I'm so glad they preserved it!

These photographs were shot with my Nikon P-90 digital camera and downloaded directly from the camera and then to this blog. My aim is to take my reader along with me on the journey, so although I am aware of my framing of the shot, content and quality, I am most interested in sharing the experience.

My Friend Dakota

Pets! 

What would we do without our little fur babies?


 Well, sometimes our babies have feathers instead of fur!

 This is Dakota and his mom!

 Dakota is a twelve year old parrot who goes everywhere with his mom!
(Of course his wing feathers are trimmed so he can't fly.)

Quite fickle is Dakota! He doesn't care who's head or hand he's on...

 ...And sometimes he doesn't even want a hand!

These photographs were shot with my Nikon P-90 digital camera and downloaded directly from the camera and then to this blog. My aim is to take my reader along with me on the journey, so although I am aware of my framing of the shot, content and quality, I am most interested in sharing the experience.

Dog and Beth Chapman The Bounty Hunters

Do we ever expect to be pleasantly surprised?


 Sure, when I bought tickets to go see the Mercy Tour that Duane and Beth Chapman were on, I knew I would likely enjoy myself.

(My friend Stella and I both watch whenever we can.... For different reasons...)

 But! Who knew?

Who knew that this unusual looking,  muscular, five foot seven inch man would hold an auditorium packed full of every age, size and description of people in his hands with only his words?

Who knew that this tough man would be nervous enough that he had to continuously pace the stage until his beautiful wife came to stand beside him?

Who knew he could speak of heart wrenching personal episodes and still be so overcome with emotion that he would be hampered by a catch in his throat and tears in his eyes?

Who knew he was REAL. What you see on TV is not just an act but a living, breathing, bad guy gone good? 

 Who knew someone who looks this rough and dresses this way could laugh and make jokes about his (what he calls) mosquito netting of hair on the back of his head and would ask the folks in the balcony section if they could see his bald spot well?

 Who knew that he is so in love with his drop dead gorgeous wife and partner and that he would literally beam when he speaks of her?

 See... Who knew that a cat can choose to change his stripes?
He can still be a tiger but choose to be gentle and empathetic and kind?

Who would think that a man and a woman who met after they had already created families that produced many children would draw all those scattered sons and daughters and grandchildren, nieces and nephews to their home and make a nest under one roof that is so full of lasting love and protection?
This beautiful young woman with such sparkle in her eyes is Baby Lisa and she is a Bounty Hunter as well!


In his own words... "I am what the word rehabilitation means!"

 
Who knew that a family of just regular people from all sorts of lives can overcome incredible obstacles and still love, rejoice and really be alive? He is a husband, a father, brother, grandpa and the "step" included in all those combinations as well? 
....That he still does the vacuuming!

Can you see the love in their eyes?


I knew!


I knew ...
.....And yet Stella and I were pleasantly surprised last night and walked out of Centennial Hall in London with a renewed sense of spirit and generosity.


His message is one of forgiveness, love, the power of positive thinking...


...And at all costs:


          ......Stop the spread of addictive drugs in this world!


 I applaud this family with my whole being! This is a love story of two people who came from nothing and nowhere and have accomplished miracles by just believing, being a family and hard work. By doing what other people won't do.


If you ever get the chance, spend the reasonable price and get yourself a ticket for this show. This man is a Tony Robbins' trained professional motivational speaker and you will be glad you listened!




 Some of my photographs in this post were cropped because we were in an auditorium and heads got in the way! No touch ups though... Never is...
These photographs were shot with my Nikon P-90 digital camera and downloaded directly from the camera and then to this blog. My aim is to take my reader along with me on the journey, so although I am aware of my framing of the shot, content and quality, I am most interested in sharing the experience.

Here She Comes Again!

Here she comes....

 Floatin' down the creek...

She gets the funniest looks from...

Every boat by the beach!

Whew! 

Miss Libby sure does take a few shoves and pushes to get around!

That'll be me in a few years!


It'll take at least a tug boat on each end to get my big butt out ta' this Lazy Boy Chair!






These photographs were shot with my Nikon P-90 digital camera and downloaded directly from the camera and then to this blog. My aim is to take my reader along with me on the journey, so although I am aware of my framing of the shot, content and quality, I am most interested in sharing the experience.

A Lady In And Out Of Time!

Time... A constant thing.... Tick... Tock...




Does time ever stand still or....




Is it a live and energetic thing?

Can someone be stuck in time? 
....Or can two "times" exist in the same space?


 A contradiction?

 Or a conundrum?

.... Can you always believe what your eyes see?




These photographs were shot with my Nikon P-90 digital camera and downloaded directly from the camera and then to this blog. My aim is to take my reader along with me on the journey, so although I am aware of my framing of the shot, content and quality, I am most interested in sharing the experience.

Bugs and Butterflys!

BZZZ BZZZZ

A lovely little moth butterfly on the Queen Anne's Lace.

Hard to get close enough without my camera's focus going all wrangy!


I love how the horse flies are willing to share.


If you look under the fly, you can also see a big ant!

Must have been some good eats there!
I don't know what any of these little guys are, but they are pretty for pictures!


These photographs were shot with my Nikon P-90 digital camera and downloaded directly from the camera and then to this blog. My aim is to take my reader along with me on the journey, so although I am aware of my framing of the shot, content and quality, I am most interested in sharing the experience.

Stumped Saturday Again!

Just an old stump and when they cut down the dead tree, they've thankfully left the holy home!

Looks like lots of hungry wood peckers have lived here!


 This tree stump is located inside the Fingal Wildlife Refuge just west of Fingal, Ontario. This was the site of a Canadian Air Force training base and airport and they've torn down all the trappings and runways. Dick's dad trained here and it is odd to walk the paths that his father may have walked all those years ago.

Was this dead tree stump a spindly sapling when Harvey trained here? 


 Harvey is gone many years now, but they buried him with his uniform's cap and medals. He's much more alive in our thoughts as we walk the trails and pathways of this acreage than if we went to visit his grave.


 Happy Father's day everyone! Kiss and hug your dad if you've still got one. Mine's been gone since 1969 and Dick's died in 1999 but there isn't a day goes by that we don't think about them or remember them. Good men both and they did the best that they could for us and without question, loved us.


 You can't ask for anything more, can you?


These photographs were shot with my Nikon P-90 digital camera and downloaded directly from the camera and then to this blog. My aim is to take my reader along with me on the journey, so although I am aware of my framing of the shot, content and quality, I am most interested in sharing the experience.

Freedom

Our freedom is taken for granted....


 I want to honor some of the people who gave so much!

The horrid contraption was an actual slave collar. 
I'm sorry if I upset you, (my stomach contracts when I look at it.)

The wide arms were meant to catch in tree branches to slow a slave down if they ran.

 I walked up to the display inside the Henry Ford and I was drawn to the glass! My hand involuntarily reached out towards the piece of metal and I laid my palm flat against the glass. My eyes filled with tears. I gave a silent prayer to live where I do and in the time that I do. I am so lucky!

 This woman knew pain and suffering and she did what she could to help.


 Could I also do what she did? Would I have been that strong?


Gosh! I hope I could have done something!


These photographs were shot with my Nikon P-90 digital camera and downloaded directly from the camera and then to this blog. My aim is to take my reader along with me on the journey, so although I am aware of my framing of the shot, content and quality, I am most interested in sharing the experience.

Freckles

Ever read articles about  pets looking like their owners?


I stumbled across this interesting looking man who had kittens to give away.

Look at that little baby! So cute sitting on the man's lap like it was the safest place in the while wide world.


Now, here's a mental exercise for you:


 Picture walking alone down a dark street at night and this man is walking towards you...


 What would you see?


 A man who cuddles a kitty on his lap?


 Or...?

Look at this precious little baby!
 His freckles blew me away and I wanted him!

Sure, the others were very cute too, but...

This one was so special.


 "Ok Dad... Is it time for chicken yet?"

"Maybe I'll just sleep a minute more!"


These photographs were shot with my Nikon P-90 digital camera and downloaded directly from the camera and then to this blog. My aim is to take my reader along with me on the journey, so although I am aware of my framing of the shot, content and quality, I am most interested in sharing the experience.

Wieners Rule!

It takes a certain sort of person to have a certain kind of sense of humor and whether it was Henry Ford or Clara or one of their many employees who thought of this theme for their cafe in the museum, I don't care!  It is funny!


 Let me introduce you to the Oscar Meyer Wienermobile Cafe located inside The Henry Ford Museum!

During our visit, we were again peckish in the middle of the afternoon and just happened to be more than half way through the museum. A hot dog and drink and a little sit down were in order and so over we went!


Cafeteria in style, you can buy all sorts of gourmet hot dogs and Dick ordered a Chili Dog and me, well, I just had a Cheese Dog.  Num! Num!

 Has anybody seen this vehicle for real? What fun!
And of course it's right there in the Museum! 
There were only six of these vehicles built.



I am humming the Oscar Mayer theme song as I type...

My Balony has a first name,
It's O - S - C - A - R ...


My Baloney has a second name,
It's M -A - Y - E - R...


(Come on! What's the next line?)

Oh! I love to eat it every day,
And if you ask me why I'll say....

(Big breath now...)


Cause Oscar Mayer has a way,
With .... B - O - L - O - G - N - A!


Here's the link to a YuTube page of the little guy singing it!

 

Oscar Mayer Wiener Jingle

Oh, I wish I were an Oscar Mayer wiener!

That is what I'd truely like to be...

'Cuz if Iwere an Oscar Mayer wiener,

Everyone would be in love with me!

We couldn't help but laugh as we saw this commotion around this display! Giggling and laughing!

I would love to meet the person who thought this up! 
The children were having such fun!


  ... And no, Oscar Mayer didn't, nor did anyone else compensate me in any way to post this! I just love the whole concept! 
Brilliant Marketing and I 'm just jealous I didn't think of it! 


These photographs were shot with my Nikon P-90 digital camera and downloaded directly from the camera and then to this blog. My aim is to take my reader along with me on the journey, so although I am aware of my framing of the shot, content and quality, I am most interested in sharing the experience.

Rosey Rhubarb Days

Ever heard of a town where the residents use the humble Rhubarb plant as a decorative feature?

Shedden Ontario, Canada!

It was over eighty degrees Saturday and this team and pair of babies pulled the wagon full of folks all day! 

The babies were very good, but did voice their disapproval!

Mmmmm.... Cotton Candy!

Rosie Rhubarb is after all, all about the rhubarb! These are jars of Rhubarb salsa and Dick says it is good! (Too bad they weren't sharing their recipe!)

My friend and I shopped all the vendors...

Tons of children's activities! This little girl was catching fish in a fish pond. It was so hot and humid, I was considering shoving them all aside and sitting in the thing!

Mostly, Rosie Rhubarb days was about garage sales and the whole town had turned their stuff onto their lawns. We didn't buy much, but had tons of fun.




These photographs were shot with my Nikon P-90 digital camera and downloaded directly from the camera and then to this blog. My aim is to take my reader along with me on the journey, so although I am aware of my framing of the shot, content and quality, I am most interested in sharing the experience.