It’s finally here.
The big day.
Two weeks to find it.
Two weeks to haggle, inspect, haggle some more, fix, and sign on the dotted line.
Leaving behind the bright lights of northern Vermont
Nothing to do now but wait for the professionals who’ll pack whatever is not nailed down…
Just in time for the holiday…
So here we go…time to move
Next stop…
H O M E!!
See ya’ll real soon.
🙂
(PS) this is from my phone…can’t really see it…hope it came through as intended.
It’s official…we’re on the road again.
Tradin’ in
‘Ya can’t get theyah from heeyah’
for
‘Ya’ll come back now, y’hear?’
The Green Mountains of Vermont, the land of my birth…to the Blue Ridge Mountains of Virginia.
Before the snow flies and on the wings of the snow birds, we’ll be gone.
Naturally, this meant another foray into the wild green yonder of this place I love, to capture as much of her as I can before heading out.
A week from now we’ll be ‘down there’, looking for a home.
If we are successful, in 3 weeks time, I’ll be an Old Dame in The Old Dominion and the other half will be, ummm, well?
Old
I invite you to share my last Vermont Drive By of the Season and look forward to sharing my new home with you
(as soon as I find one)
R
For some New England states, the lack of development makes for an inconvenient truth…there is a high price for beauty. Of all the states that make up New England, Vermont pays a higher price for its pristine vistas and unspoiled landscapes, than do the others. That’s not a scientific fact, but as one who has lived and/or worked in all of them, I feel confident in my opinion.
Seasonal tourism has become the bread and butter of a state (formerly?) known as The Dairy State. However, that said, it’s still not enough to make up for what this state has lost, what it once was, and still pay for what this state now is…an entitlement state with a tax bill to prove it.
You couldn’t drive a mile without passing a flourishing dairy farm; their rich pastures dotted with the familiar black and white of the Holstein, just to name one of the breeds that carved cow paths through much of the landscape of its history.
Nearly every generation of my family, leading up to but excluding mine, was raised or worked on, a family dairy farm.
The sights we see today, or in our case, the sights Supe and I captured yesterday, are now the norm.
Neglect may come to mind…but it goes much deeper.
Neglect suggests a choice.
Being a farmer is a choice.
Losing a farm is not.
And this doesn’t just happen here, it happens all over our country. But here is where I live, and here is where I love, and here is where I weep, for the loss of the American dream, one field, one barn, one beautiful bovine at a time.
I’m glad this day of Reflection with Supe resulted in the following photographs, for amid the not so subtle colors that draw the throngs of leaf-peepers, there are also signs of the times.
And please, don’t get me wrong, not all the photos of yesterday are sad reminders. Some are of the wondrous sites that bring these people from thousands of miles away. The commentary only addresses those photos that evoke a sense of loss for days gone, livelihoods lost, to government’s well intended (?) intervention.
These signs are everywhere.
And knowing his roots as a farm boy, I also know it’s never easy for him to see what is an all too common sight today.
I wanted him to know that I see what once was when I point my camera in the direction of a falling down ruin of a barn, or the overgrown and gone to seed fields that once produced food for the masses, four-legged and two-legged alike.
I wanted him to understand that the photos I take are not just a sad reminder of the times. Nor are they just a snapshot of the foreseeable future.
They are, for me and I hope for him, as much a tribute to the rich history and grass roots past that he cherishes and I’ll never let die.
I wanted him to come away from our day of Reflection knowing I see and feel, the depth of what’s lost and that I’ll never take life, or family values, for granted.
So, here, Part II of A Day Out with Superman and Lois:
The High Price of Low Progress
~♥~
For Dad
~♥~
(and for you Dad, we’ll start with some to make you smile)
As the day winds down, take a peek behind or underneath, look up while soaking in the last of the sun’s warmth, or just pick a spot to stand still and let what remains of the day inspire you to look forward to what tomorrow may bring.
After all…
The evening’s the best part of the day. You’ve done your day’s work. Now you can put your feet up and enjoy it.
The Remains of the Day
Ahhh.
The music of Lerner and Loewe.
Remember? “My Fair Lady“?
Can ya hear it? (hint – click on my song of the week and you will)
Well, this is my version…not music to the ears, but hopefully music to the eyes.
~♥~Happy Fall my friends ~♥~
(and as always…a click on the image for the full view)
If both ‘My Fair Camera’ and the weather continue cooperating…tomorrow I may venture out and end up…
Keep an eye out will ya?
I take cream and a touch of sugar in my coffee…
♥
Leave a 3 decades long marriage to the only person who ever knew everything about you, but forgot you were there while he got on with his life
Meet and fall in love with another, heart first, sight unseen, and for whom there was no question that he was my future and I his
Make plans together for that future
Share every detail of yourselves and your lives with each other
Become THAT vulnerable
Learn too late that you love too much, yet are not enough at the same time, and figuratively get left at the altar
Wonder why you are not worth loving, while you fall apart, feeling in your heart, it must be true…for the old one forgot you and the new one didn’t want you
However, be asked to return to that 3 decades long marriage to that one person who knew all along you didn’t belong anywhere but with him, no questions asked
Spend months trying to come to terms with being tossed out of one heart and not understanding why
And allowed back into another and not quite trusting why, but feeling grateful and wondering if that feeling is justified
Working to keep a friendship alive while the question still burns “where did the future go when I wasn’t looking?”
Working to keep a marriage honest and true, yet at the same time, struggle with the two questions “how can he still and how come he can’t” love me?
Helping a husband find a new path in life
And willingly so
While feeling the ghost of pain as the other follows another without you
Unwillingly so
Clearing your life of all material possessions because it’s all become too much
Watching your life put into boxes and carted off like box lots to auction
Standing in an empty shell that once held a family’s heart
Heading into the unknown in the second half century of your life with nothing more than you started with
Wondering if you’re strong enough to handle starting over
With the old love
Without the new one
And not sure you deserve either
And through it all, come to grips with your own past and its demons
Shedding light on a life spent in the dark in the most public way possible
Light that will hurt and help you…as it hurts and, you pray and hope, will help others more
Light that allows you to be okay with the similarities/contradictions of love and hate
But still leaves questions, burning questions, about whether you are doing the right thing
And needing
Always needing
That and whom, which does not want to be needed
No one wants the burden of constant reassurance
No one has the responsibility of convincing me I’m worthy
No one deserves the mantle of “someone to watch over me”
I’m a lot of work
And the only one up to the job
Equipped for the job
The job of re-assembling my life
Is ME
I’m sorry if these words or these thoughts spoken out loud hurt anyone
That is not the intent
As it is when assembling anything
We must first lay all the pieces out on the table
Take inventory
And (if female) read the instructions
I’ve found the instructions of my life are complicated, often in a foreign language, and perhaps even missing a step or two
But I’ll stick with it
Trial and error
Use my Yankee Ingenuity if I have to
So that in the end, I’ll be reconstructed, reassembled, or re-purposed…
Whichever it is…it’ll be me.
And it’ll be great
We must first break it down to build it up
Let the rebuilding begin
NO
Let the rebuilding continue…for this journey didn’t start today or yesterday
It started November 3rd Nineteen Hundred and Sixty
A long project…a lifelong project…with a punch-list of changes ten miles long
A worthy one?
You bet!
Did I ever mention “I had a hammer?”
Sigh.
Big sigh.
Bigger sigh.
It’s BEEN a coupla days ya know?
If I had my camera, I think I’d know where to go from here.
But…as it happens, I don’t.
Also as it happens…I won’t.
Not for a while anyway.
So…where does one, such as me, go from here?
Hmmmm
A side trip I think.
A dirt road not yet traveled or a path traveled once that needs revisiting?
I’ve been digging through my photos looking for something…some kind of inspiration.
Imagine the white rabbit in Alice and Wonderland…
I’m late I’m late for a very important date.”
And no, I don’t have a date, but the FEELING is there…of being late, missing something, needing to hurry to catch up,
Ok…so, I know I’m not going to catch up, hence the sigh.
But I am going to just jump onto the path and see where it leads.
Why here?
Why these photos?
I don’t know for sure.
All I know is this:
Like I said, it’s BEEN a coupla days.
But I’m glad I chose to jump on this particular path.
It was a good choice the first time, and like all good things….it still is.
Life’s contradictions
Life seen in contrast
Life lived in flux
Life felt in extremes
Let Mikey try it?
Sure. But…
Hear the words….GET BACK UP by Toby Mac
Tomorrow is a big day for me.
I’m scared shitless.
A day that requires a strength I’m not positive I have.
Yet I’m committed to faking that strength if I have to.
A day to speak-up, speak-out, and step-up.
To use the tools I have; tearing down old walls, kicking open locked doors, and shattering the stained and grime covered glass windows that have kept the dark in and the light out for too long.
Then, I can put the sledgehammer down, pick up my paint brush, and add my own colors to the palette of those brave souls already building a sanctuary from the prisons of abuse.
If aiding those who have already begun fabricating the framework; the architects like Andrea Bredbeck, and the carpenters, masons, and painters who swing their hammers, glide their trowels, and stroke their brushes of truth; if that is all I can do, then it’s what I will do.
Support is the – KEY – 
to this sanctuary. Without it, the door will remain locked.
Let your loved ones know, BEFORE they need it, that you’ll always be there.
Don’t assume they know…hammer it home it you have to.
That’s YOUR tool…use it. With love, but use it.
♥ And to those I love and to those that love me…thank you. ♥
The third and final post in the RAPE: Rise Against Punishable Eccentricity challenge to join the movement to raise our voices in the fight again Rape and Sexual Assault, as well as lift our voices in unison toward helping women feel empowered to take charge and take action.
I particularly love this one because it’s quintessential Susan (the Green Thumb Goddess). She can always pack a wallop in her poetry but I think she especially nailed this one. The seed planted here is powerful, visual, and easy to relate to.
I would also like to thank my daughter-in-law Lindsay for allowing me to use her beautiful face in this image. While she’s not a victim of sexual abuse…she absolutely ‘gets’ it!
A side note:
Women do not have to be victims of abuse to feel like and see that ‘stranger’ in the mirror…sometimes lost, sometimes less than, too often unrecognizable. Because I know that feeling all too well, not just as a survivor, but as a woman in general, there’s an added incentive to lead by example; to show that we must not be silent; we must not become part of the backdrop of someone else’s life; we must not lose sight of who and what we are…special, unique, and empowered to change the world by virtue of our voices, our minds, and not the least, raising our children.
We must step up and out of the supporting role and take the lead when we need to; show our sons and daughters that just because we plant and tend the garden, it does NOT make us gardeners.
And our choice to be housewives, does NOT mean we are ignorant of the world outside our four walls.
If our choice is to be stay-at-home mothers, it is just that – a choice. NOT an open door to disrespect, condescension, or a sign that we feel ourselves unworthy. If anything…it’s the complete opposite.
Here then, for her, you, me, us….WE
Stranger by Susan Daniels and Rhonda
Number 1 – Rape Hurts Number 2 – She
Thank you Susan, it was an absolute pleasure to be part of this with you.
And, thank you all for reading.
50 Shades of Gray Hair 
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