Dear Darklings,
I fear I am getting old, another one of my hero's or icons if you wish, has passed away.
Patrick MacNee, "John Steed" of the T.V. show "The Avengers" passed away a few days ago at the age of 93 of natural causes as reported by his two children.
It's hard to believe that man with the twinkle in the eye and the quick quip is now gone.
"The Avengers" along with "Dark Shadows" and "Mission Impossible" was one of those shows I'd watch religiously.
MacNee loved all his Avenger leading Ladies, each had their own special brand of being the Liberated Woman and I loved each and everyone of them, along with Barbra Bain as Cinnamon Carter of "Mission Impossible".
Between them, Dracula's Daughter and my Mother and Grandmothers (and Dad and eldest brother) they all gave me the impetus to be a Liberated woman in my own darkling way.
Goodbye "John Steed" always wear your bowler and watch out for Diabolical plots.
Later Darklings
Showing posts with label Death. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Death. Show all posts
Saturday, June 27, 2015
Thursday, June 11, 2015
RIP Christopher Lee~~~~
Darklings,
Today I'm having a hard time trying to not cry. My Heart is broken, the man for whom I turned Goth for is gone.
Christopher Lee, the vampire count, the Villain of Villains, the man who has "saved" my virtue a number of times, is gone.
Except for Doyle, he is the only man I ever had a serious "crush" on.
Mother would not let me go to the movies with a boy unless it was a film starring Christopher Lee, because she knew I would be more interested in the film, instead of a pimple-faced boy trying to make like an eight-armed octopus, needless to say I never had repeat dates with those callow youths. My heart always belonged to Him.
Doyle admired him too and could understand my "crush".
As I understand it he passed away this last Sunday of respiratory problems, he was 93. He now joins, Vincent, Peter, John Caradine, Boris, and Lon.
I say that he is NOT DEAD, but only resting, waiting to haunt us in our dreams.
"Good Night Sweet Count and flights of vampire bats help fly thee to thy rest"
Today I'm having a hard time trying to not cry. My Heart is broken, the man for whom I turned Goth for is gone.
Christopher Lee, the vampire count, the Villain of Villains, the man who has "saved" my virtue a number of times, is gone.
Except for Doyle, he is the only man I ever had a serious "crush" on.
Mother would not let me go to the movies with a boy unless it was a film starring Christopher Lee, because she knew I would be more interested in the film, instead of a pimple-faced boy trying to make like an eight-armed octopus, needless to say I never had repeat dates with those callow youths. My heart always belonged to Him.
Doyle admired him too and could understand my "crush".
As I understand it he passed away this last Sunday of respiratory problems, he was 93. He now joins, Vincent, Peter, John Caradine, Boris, and Lon.
I say that he is NOT DEAD, but only resting, waiting to haunt us in our dreams.
"Good Night Sweet Count and flights of vampire bats help fly thee to thy rest"
Thursday, November 20, 2014
Of the Answer to the strange Guessing Game~~~~
Hello Darklings,
I'm sure most of you guessed the answer, and have refrained from posting it, to those who saw but wasn't sure, well don't worry Darklings, even I wasn't sure at first.
The simple answer is ---the Lady in the picture, oh she is human----but She's Dead!
Yes Darklings she is dead, embalmed and posed with her favorite things, wine, Bingo, cigarettes, etc.
It seems that this is a slowly emerging new trend in funeral arrangements, a bit morbid for my taste but who knows.
I've heard of several others, a woman in her favorite sexy nightgown posed in her Ferrari and she was buried in it too.
A man posed on his favorite motorcycle in full cycle gear, and a few others. Not many but a few as I'm sure there have been.
Well there had been jokes going around when Roy Rogers had Bullet the dog and Trigger "stuffed", when he died very in poor taste jokes were going around asking if Dale had Roy "stuffed".
But it seems that the deceased in planning their funerals wanted it to be a celebration of their life, and to not going around all weepy eyed, but to just live it up. Frankly for some people I think that's a wonderful idea, after all we go to haunted houses to see spooky tableau's why not?
I remember a story, or maybe its just an urban myth. There was a fun house dark ride and one of the figures was that of a gruesome looking body that was hung, some years later when they were re-vamping the dark ride it turned out that it was not a prop but a real body that had been in the dark ride for years, where it came from no one knew. Strange things happen.
That's why I like(d) the CSI series and Bones they would find the most gruesome things, but I was told by a writer friend of mine who has done T.V. scripts that a lot of those are based on actual events that have happened and then they tie it into a story line. He told me some writers use to joke "what kind of horrible death can we use this week." Not at all tasteful, but not untrue either.
Mom wanted to put on Dad's tombstone "Gone Fishing" with a fish splashing out of the water, but a couple of relatives were horrified, so a year later on the anniversary of his passing we put flowers on his grave and Mom stuck a small wooden sign she made with the same words. She was going to have the last say in the matter. That sign stayed there until it fell apart, next year we're going to put up a new one.
But I'm afraid I am a bit of a traditionalist, I'll want the simple boring funeral service, but I'm choosing the music I want to be played, such as Bach's "Toccata and Fugue" Some Gregorian Chants, maybe Mozart's Requiem I haven't thought it out yet.
But I do want my hands to be over my chest with a lily in one hand, like Lily Munster, I don't care if its a silk lily that is what I want.
And now I must sign off, the timer went off and Doyle has pulled the stuffed Bell Peppers from the oven.
Later Darklings
I'm sure most of you guessed the answer, and have refrained from posting it, to those who saw but wasn't sure, well don't worry Darklings, even I wasn't sure at first.
The simple answer is ---the Lady in the picture, oh she is human----but She's Dead!
Yes Darklings she is dead, embalmed and posed with her favorite things, wine, Bingo, cigarettes, etc.
It seems that this is a slowly emerging new trend in funeral arrangements, a bit morbid for my taste but who knows.
I've heard of several others, a woman in her favorite sexy nightgown posed in her Ferrari and she was buried in it too.
A man posed on his favorite motorcycle in full cycle gear, and a few others. Not many but a few as I'm sure there have been.
Well there had been jokes going around when Roy Rogers had Bullet the dog and Trigger "stuffed", when he died very in poor taste jokes were going around asking if Dale had Roy "stuffed".
But it seems that the deceased in planning their funerals wanted it to be a celebration of their life, and to not going around all weepy eyed, but to just live it up. Frankly for some people I think that's a wonderful idea, after all we go to haunted houses to see spooky tableau's why not?
I remember a story, or maybe its just an urban myth. There was a fun house dark ride and one of the figures was that of a gruesome looking body that was hung, some years later when they were re-vamping the dark ride it turned out that it was not a prop but a real body that had been in the dark ride for years, where it came from no one knew. Strange things happen.
That's why I like(d) the CSI series and Bones they would find the most gruesome things, but I was told by a writer friend of mine who has done T.V. scripts that a lot of those are based on actual events that have happened and then they tie it into a story line. He told me some writers use to joke "what kind of horrible death can we use this week." Not at all tasteful, but not untrue either.
Mom wanted to put on Dad's tombstone "Gone Fishing" with a fish splashing out of the water, but a couple of relatives were horrified, so a year later on the anniversary of his passing we put flowers on his grave and Mom stuck a small wooden sign she made with the same words. She was going to have the last say in the matter. That sign stayed there until it fell apart, next year we're going to put up a new one.
But I'm afraid I am a bit of a traditionalist, I'll want the simple boring funeral service, but I'm choosing the music I want to be played, such as Bach's "Toccata and Fugue" Some Gregorian Chants, maybe Mozart's Requiem I haven't thought it out yet.
But I do want my hands to be over my chest with a lily in one hand, like Lily Munster, I don't care if its a silk lily that is what I want.
And now I must sign off, the timer went off and Doyle has pulled the stuffed Bell Peppers from the oven.
Later Darklings
Thursday, October 9, 2014
Of Dressing Darkly, Full Moons and Death Parlors~~~~~~
Hello Darklings,
I really should get back on how an Elder Goth should dress, but frankly I have to admit that a lot of the clothing that I've seen from Macy's and Nordstrom are a bit "preppy".
And having your hemline end above the knees is not aesthetically pleasing. As Mae West once said "Long Dresses hide a multitude of shins". Of course in the work place that is not possible and in some cases not practical either.
But what you want to "advertise" is your "Power" not your legs and too short a hemline is not at all attractive.
On the subject of pants most pants too are not Goth in my way of thinking, unless however they project a feminine, feline Gothic grace.
Now when I'm working in the yard or doing housework, or even on vacation or camping (yes Darklings I've done camping) then pants would be called for, but if I'm vacationing at a luxurious location, then again remember feminine, feline Gothic grace.
At work I usually wear either suits, a dress with long sleeves coupled with a coat (mostly for cold) or if hot then a scarf and hat when commuting. Many of my suits have been sewn up for me by a wonderful seamstress following vintage patterns, and fit me beautifully.
But most of us are not that fortunate, in the Macy's collection for fall I've seen some suits with interesting collar designs and fitted waists, which I think would be very nice, but of course many ladies would say "Oh that's not goth", well you have to take into account where you're working, if you're in a bank, insurance office or lawyer's office etc. what you can do to make it goth is choose a piece of jewelry (costume) that would indicate you're a bit different.
Like a spider pin, or and I have seen them an octopus pin, or a cross in black stones, you will know it when you see it.
Most of my suits, dresses, skirts are in black, with a few in deep maroon, or the deepest darkest, richest purple or green one can find. The slacks or Jeans that I have are in black, it goes with everything.
My hem line for work is several inches below my knee, for sure mid-calf, unless your legs cannot carry off that length, then stay with several inches below the knee,
I always wear a hat and gloves, it protects the face and hands.
Now I have seen some lovely shoes on line from Woman Within, but their clothing tends to be granny style and a Elder Goth is never granny looking. Think of Regina in the T.V. series "Once Upon a Time" she is the epitome of powerful, elder goth.
One thing I do HATE is panty hose, the worse abomination to give a woman a disagreeable discomfort that you have to go to the doctor for.
Thigh high stockings are fine but I always back it up with a good garter belt, and not those froo-froo one's from Victoria Secrets either, but one's that will hold up to a full days work. And wearing shoes without nylons is asking to get blisters on your toes and backs of your heels, flip-flops are only proper for wearing at a pool, and should be banned from your car or to the store, if need be wear a good pair of flats.
Another thing I detest is the wearing of pajama bottoms and tops to the store, to me it means that you don't care, you haven't showered or bathed, nor even brush your teeth, Yuck!!!
Now at home what I do is if I am cooking then I wear an apron if I just got home to prepare dinner, most of the time it's either in a slow cooker or I've put it in the oven, after dinner and picking up the dishes to wash I switch out of my outer clothes and nylons into a house dress to wear under the apron, and then I do the clean up.
After clean up I switch to one of several lounge outfits, with mules that have the little fluff on the toes, to sit around the house as I read or watch T.V. if someone drops by, I'm at least in an outfit that is acceptable to receive unexpected company.
For bed well it depends on how cold it is, but I have several silky, soft night gowns with matching robes or penoirs, when it's really chilly out comes the flannel night gowns.
On nail polish I have not be overwhelmed by much except that I have seen a few colors by Essie that look intriguing, right now I'm wearing one by Sinful called Starry Night, perfect for October.
Much of my cosmetics is either by Besame especially their lipsticks, Clinique and Physican's Formula. Now that I'm older I've tone down my eye make up, but do enough to define my eyes, the lipstick I still remain bold with, and no matter what I continue to wear cologne or perfume.
My favorites are Channel No. 5, Elizabeth Taylor's Passion and Black Pearls, and an old tried and true favorite Tabu, my Mother use to wear Tabu. I'm not above trying a few others if the scent pleases me.
On hair, if I could wear the hair styles from the 1940's I would but they are complicated, most of the time I wear it as seen in the movie "Dracula's Daughter" as it is so long, but my sister has taken to coloring her hair as close as possible to it's original color, and I too am going to succumb to that, there is too much grey appearing in my hair that although I do still get carded on occasion when I ask for Senior discount, because facially I have few wrinkles (Lucky in the DNA department) my hair is becoming a give away----YES Darklings I AM vain.
But all this straight hanging getting into one's eyes stuff, no, and cutting it short, no, Betty Page? Not really, but there are some styles depending upon your facial structure would look very good, again Regina, and Meryl Streep in "The Devil wears Prada".
Well enough of that....
Last night was also a beautiful Full Moon, and Sis had dropped by, Doyle and I were setting out the lights for the Halloween display, seeing what would work best, so we relaxed on the front porch sitting on the steps, we had the metal front gate closed so Belladonna and Weiner Dog would not dash out, and they were sitting on the steps with us.
Sis told me that a colleague of hers had invited her to a "Death Parlor" conference being held in the City, an all Day affair that would last until past 9 p.m. she tried to get one or two more tickets knowing that I would be interested in it but alas no more were available it had sold out quickly. She told me about this Web site called "Order of the Good Death" and I could check to see when they would hold another one, although she heard that the one for next year would be held back east.
Oh it would have been fascinating to go, but it was not meant to be, but I told her to gather as much info as possible. And I'm going to check out this web site.
Just then we looked up as Brian joined us and enjoyed and remarked about the full moon, after a few minutes Belladonna and Weiner Dog started to howl, and we couldn't resist Sis and I joined in, Brian with a shrug of his shoulders as if saying "why not?" joined us as we howled, our neighbors who were walking by with their dogs joined us in the Howlfest.
After a minute Doyle came back out side and I heard him exclaim "again??!! Children of the Night!! Shut Up!!" we stopped, and then Brian turned to him and said "Spoil Sport." All of us including our neighbors, laughed.
Now today, I will be getting out the Halloween serving platters and such, and getting them ready for our event.
But I am going to check that web site.
Later Darklings
I really should get back on how an Elder Goth should dress, but frankly I have to admit that a lot of the clothing that I've seen from Macy's and Nordstrom are a bit "preppy".
And having your hemline end above the knees is not aesthetically pleasing. As Mae West once said "Long Dresses hide a multitude of shins". Of course in the work place that is not possible and in some cases not practical either.
But what you want to "advertise" is your "Power" not your legs and too short a hemline is not at all attractive.
On the subject of pants most pants too are not Goth in my way of thinking, unless however they project a feminine, feline Gothic grace.
Now when I'm working in the yard or doing housework, or even on vacation or camping (yes Darklings I've done camping) then pants would be called for, but if I'm vacationing at a luxurious location, then again remember feminine, feline Gothic grace.
At work I usually wear either suits, a dress with long sleeves coupled with a coat (mostly for cold) or if hot then a scarf and hat when commuting. Many of my suits have been sewn up for me by a wonderful seamstress following vintage patterns, and fit me beautifully.
But most of us are not that fortunate, in the Macy's collection for fall I've seen some suits with interesting collar designs and fitted waists, which I think would be very nice, but of course many ladies would say "Oh that's not goth", well you have to take into account where you're working, if you're in a bank, insurance office or lawyer's office etc. what you can do to make it goth is choose a piece of jewelry (costume) that would indicate you're a bit different.
Like a spider pin, or and I have seen them an octopus pin, or a cross in black stones, you will know it when you see it.
Most of my suits, dresses, skirts are in black, with a few in deep maroon, or the deepest darkest, richest purple or green one can find. The slacks or Jeans that I have are in black, it goes with everything.
My hem line for work is several inches below my knee, for sure mid-calf, unless your legs cannot carry off that length, then stay with several inches below the knee,
I always wear a hat and gloves, it protects the face and hands.
Now I have seen some lovely shoes on line from Woman Within, but their clothing tends to be granny style and a Elder Goth is never granny looking. Think of Regina in the T.V. series "Once Upon a Time" she is the epitome of powerful, elder goth.
One thing I do HATE is panty hose, the worse abomination to give a woman a disagreeable discomfort that you have to go to the doctor for.
Thigh high stockings are fine but I always back it up with a good garter belt, and not those froo-froo one's from Victoria Secrets either, but one's that will hold up to a full days work. And wearing shoes without nylons is asking to get blisters on your toes and backs of your heels, flip-flops are only proper for wearing at a pool, and should be banned from your car or to the store, if need be wear a good pair of flats.
Another thing I detest is the wearing of pajama bottoms and tops to the store, to me it means that you don't care, you haven't showered or bathed, nor even brush your teeth, Yuck!!!
Now at home what I do is if I am cooking then I wear an apron if I just got home to prepare dinner, most of the time it's either in a slow cooker or I've put it in the oven, after dinner and picking up the dishes to wash I switch out of my outer clothes and nylons into a house dress to wear under the apron, and then I do the clean up.
After clean up I switch to one of several lounge outfits, with mules that have the little fluff on the toes, to sit around the house as I read or watch T.V. if someone drops by, I'm at least in an outfit that is acceptable to receive unexpected company.
For bed well it depends on how cold it is, but I have several silky, soft night gowns with matching robes or penoirs, when it's really chilly out comes the flannel night gowns.
On nail polish I have not be overwhelmed by much except that I have seen a few colors by Essie that look intriguing, right now I'm wearing one by Sinful called Starry Night, perfect for October.
Much of my cosmetics is either by Besame especially their lipsticks, Clinique and Physican's Formula. Now that I'm older I've tone down my eye make up, but do enough to define my eyes, the lipstick I still remain bold with, and no matter what I continue to wear cologne or perfume.
My favorites are Channel No. 5, Elizabeth Taylor's Passion and Black Pearls, and an old tried and true favorite Tabu, my Mother use to wear Tabu. I'm not above trying a few others if the scent pleases me.
On hair, if I could wear the hair styles from the 1940's I would but they are complicated, most of the time I wear it as seen in the movie "Dracula's Daughter" as it is so long, but my sister has taken to coloring her hair as close as possible to it's original color, and I too am going to succumb to that, there is too much grey appearing in my hair that although I do still get carded on occasion when I ask for Senior discount, because facially I have few wrinkles (Lucky in the DNA department) my hair is becoming a give away----YES Darklings I AM vain.
But all this straight hanging getting into one's eyes stuff, no, and cutting it short, no, Betty Page? Not really, but there are some styles depending upon your facial structure would look very good, again Regina, and Meryl Streep in "The Devil wears Prada".
Well enough of that....
Last night was also a beautiful Full Moon, and Sis had dropped by, Doyle and I were setting out the lights for the Halloween display, seeing what would work best, so we relaxed on the front porch sitting on the steps, we had the metal front gate closed so Belladonna and Weiner Dog would not dash out, and they were sitting on the steps with us.
Sis told me that a colleague of hers had invited her to a "Death Parlor" conference being held in the City, an all Day affair that would last until past 9 p.m. she tried to get one or two more tickets knowing that I would be interested in it but alas no more were available it had sold out quickly. She told me about this Web site called "Order of the Good Death" and I could check to see when they would hold another one, although she heard that the one for next year would be held back east.
Oh it would have been fascinating to go, but it was not meant to be, but I told her to gather as much info as possible. And I'm going to check out this web site.
Just then we looked up as Brian joined us and enjoyed and remarked about the full moon, after a few minutes Belladonna and Weiner Dog started to howl, and we couldn't resist Sis and I joined in, Brian with a shrug of his shoulders as if saying "why not?" joined us as we howled, our neighbors who were walking by with their dogs joined us in the Howlfest.
After a minute Doyle came back out side and I heard him exclaim "again??!! Children of the Night!! Shut Up!!" we stopped, and then Brian turned to him and said "Spoil Sport." All of us including our neighbors, laughed.
Now today, I will be getting out the Halloween serving platters and such, and getting them ready for our event.
But I am going to check that web site.
Later Darklings
Monday, September 30, 2013
Of a Weekend of events, and thoughts~~~~
Hello Darklings,
Well Sis and I had a wonderful day on Friday! Of course we had our mani-pedi’s at this Salon that she knows in the City. I went with “Devil’s Lure” by Revlon, I’m not sure if it’s made anymore as it was a limited edition, but sometimes it turns up on E-Bay.
Anyway I chose it as the color is much richer, Sis decided to go with “Ginger” by Essie as it goes well with a lot of her clothes and she doesn’t want to off-put her clients by going with a strange color. But it was so nice to be pampered.
For lunch we decided upon salads as we didn’t want to be heavy and sleepy, and then to shopping, Nordstrom was our choice, but we did go into Tiffany’s, if nothing else just to drool.
I love how the staff treats its clientele even if you are window shopping. Sis saw a bracelet she fell in love with, she knew it would be perfect for her daughter. It was simple in Sterling silver and she wanted a heavy flat sterling sliver disk that was sort of thick with rounded edges to hang from it and to be engraved with her daughters’ initials in a flowing script, it was for her daughter’s birthday in November and since she would be up there to visit her at that time she wanted something very special. Her daughter had remarked how she’d like to have something like that but had been putting it off for a while; this would be very nice and classic.
At Nordstrom’s I found a lovely silk blouse in a deep camouflage green but not a boring green, with long sleeves and a shawl type collar, what dressed it up nicely were these gold buttons, and it came with three extra’s. And we had to check out the Channel counter, I was almost out of Channel #5 and purchased a bottle, trust me Darklings, I made my last bottle last for nearly 2 years. Sis found a pair of black Coach shoes that were extremely comfortable, considering that she doesn’t buy many shoes and always has her shoe repair man keep her old pairs going, buying a new pair for her is a treat and an investment.
We took a side trip to another store, I think it was Macy’s, sometimes these stores seem to run together, but we went down to the fine wares clearance area and here Sis indulged again, she found these glass starfish in 4 graduated shades of blue designed to hold things like mints, nuts, or other little goodies, and they were on sale.
Of course I had to ask her why and she said for her Tropical room, that I call her Tiki Lounge or 1950’s Hawaii, her idea of paradise. Frankly I think she was affected many years ago when she saw the singing parrots in the Tiki Room at Disneyland and of course her honeymoon many years ago to Hawaii. She told me many times “The Marriage may have failed but we’re still good friends and the honeymoon was wonderful.” Some day she’ll go back to visit, she’s been thinking of the Alanie Resort, I asked her “do you want to relax or hear the joyous sounds of children?” She replied “The place that will pamper me the most.” And something like that Darklings you should save up for, remember you’re worth it.
I found a nice little treat in the clearance section, a jar that says blood bath salts, complete with a small skull on the lid and a bat on the front of it, at the bottom it says take a relaxing bath in blood red. There were no salts in the large jar but it would be perfect to hold either Epsom salts or my own preferred bath salts. Sis teased me and said it would go perfectly with the “Bates Motel” bath towels that were given to me as a Christmas present last year. I’m putting them out in the guest bathroom for Halloween; I think I’ll put the jar there too.
But all too soon we had to leave, it was going to take forever to get home over the bridge given that it was the last Friday of the Month, and the bicyclists would be out doing their boring monthly “Critical Mass” protest, yes Darklings booooorrrrring, (someday I’ll blog about it), fortunately we didn’t encounter them, I guess we left early enough.
Still it was slow, and we decided upon Chinese take out when we got home, Doyle called and said he had a surprise and was obliging to pick up the food; I sent off several e-mails and went to pick up Belladonna. I bought her a little present, a new sweater with skulls on it as well as a brand new carry all bag, as the old one was wearing out, and it looks very stylish, at first glance one would think it was a large Michael Kors Tote bag, and then you see the mesh for the dog. Belladonna fitted perfectly into both items.
The surprise that Doyle brought home was a conglomeration of Beers, Angry Orchard’s Hard Apple Cider in a special box of 12 bottles consisting of 3 of each Crisp, Traditional Dry, Apple Ginger and Cinnfil Apple---all hard ciders. Doyle also had Pumpkin Ale by two different Breweries, and a special box packed of various Harvest Ales by Blue Moon Brewery.
Then there was Speakeasy Beer from San Francisco’s Speakeasy Brewery, this included the Tallulah pale Ale, Big Daddy, a bottle of Prohibition Porter, (I understand they are not making it anymore), and several others with that 1920’s mobster theme.
I asked him how he got these beers and he replied “A gift from a very happy and very grateful client, and he wasn’t the only one, other staffers who worked with Doyle also got beer as well all as a bonus.
I am not a coinsurer of Beer but Doyle said “we are ready for October fest”. Late September is when the micro breweries come out with their seasonal and specialized beers and ales and Doyle likes to stock up for the Fall and Winter season, I know he’ll be buying more.
So into the spare refrigerator they went in to be properly chilled and ready for that special occasion, although during October and November Doyle will occasionally indulge in the Pumpkin ales when he is relaxing on a Saturday or Sunday late afternoon, but never more than one bottle, too many spoils the enjoyment he says.
We decided to relax Friday evening and watch an old favorite “Perry Mason and the Case of the Fatal Fashion” both Sis and I remarked how we loved Barbara Hale as Della Street, so professional and confident.
In checking the mail after dinner I discovered we’d receive an invitation to an Artist showing for Saturday night, one of my art friends’ friend was doing a presentation of the ghoulish and ghastly works of art in oils and sculpture designed to be “thought pieces”. Sis of course moaned, and Doyle rolled his eyes and I said, “Well it would be interesting to see what depravity goes on in people’s minds.”
And with that remark Sis and Doyle agreed to go, provided said Sis, we all go to see “Rear Window” playing at a nearby historic movie theatre---Hitchcock in October? Perfect Timing!!!
Saturday we were up early, doing the usually grocery shopping and planed to eat dinner early, if we were still hungry when we came home I had things in the freezer that could be heated up. Not being sure when we’d get home and how perky we’d be, I decided to record Svengoolies’ presentation of that 1959 classic “The Leech Woman”, I have to say that it is a story with two morals in it, one that as men grow older their gray hairs seem to give them honor and distinction but for women as they grow older they are cast aside and pitied, the second morality tale is vanity thy name is woman, but I’ve also said you may have woman’s vanity but it is caused by man’s blindness.
Sad to say even if women are more liberated, we still have those same old idea’s running around, and women have to fight even harder.
The art show was by a friend of an artist acquaintance of mine and Sis’s and although the sculptures and paintings were very well done with a lot of thought to the subject matter they were morbid, and unsettling, dealing with the theme of horrific homicides not by shooting but by sick minds, up close and personal, emphasizing the psychopath and how they are being allowed to be free to terrorize us, we are always afraid of the terror without, but forget the terror within.
I don’t think I would have a single one of those art objects in my home, neither would Sis but some people were buying them, as investments I think, although I felt they would be better suited to a chamber of horrors in a wax museum, the gallery had to be very cool as some of the works were done in wax.
Doyle confessed that he preferred the anatomical art exhibits in which dead people were shown with their skin removed and showing the inside of how our bodies worked, those were done with injected plastic for preservation and I remember thinking how informative that exhibit was, but this was something totally different, going into the minds of psychopaths. Sis got the artists’ card she said she like to interview her (yes her) for a paper, perhaps combine it with the interview that she did with our previous ‘ghostly’ painters whose exhibit we’d seen some time ago.
And we were surprised by the artist, a short, rotund, cheerful lady, draped in purple, with a lot of silver bracelets on one wrist that jangled as she moved her hands, her hair was close cropped with natural ringlets, I looked at Sis and remarked “You’d think she’d be baking cookies for her small grandchildren” and Sis replied, “Hansel and Gretel’s old witch may have looked like her and she was going to eat them up.” I could only agree.
We did run into our ghostly couple, she just as pale as ever and he looking like he could disappear into a dark corner, her gallery show in New York went very well, almost all the paintings sold and she is embarking on a new series. “Tombstones” she said, “I’ll have it so they project out of the canvas, some will be physical installations as we are looking for old gates, and things, some will be small studies and some almost like sculptures but with a painting they will emerge from, in some ways I’m being inspired by the Night Gallery stories”. After they drifted away, I asked my Sis if she remembered how they supported themselves between showings, knowing that it does cost money to survive, she couldn’t remember, but said I might have mentioned it in my blog, now I’m going to have to look back to see.
Doyle insisted we go to an ice cream parlor that stays open late that he knows of and indulge in Ice cream, saying “I want to see something that makes me think I’m a kid of 10 again” And considering the huge banana split he ordered and devoured I’d say he got his ‘kid fix’. Sis went with just plain strawberry ice cream and I with rainbow sherbet, we too felt we had to get a strange taste out of mouths.
Sunday dawned cold and a bit overcast which eventually gave way to sunlight, we’d made plans to go to the cemetery to put flowers on our late eldest brother’s grave, something we do every year. This was one of those times when we’d be able to do it together at the same time, given how her work previously would have her traveling.
We decided to go in Doyle’s car and as we were driving to the cemetery like a vision out of the past a parade of 3 vintage cars crossed our path, 2 were from the mid to late 1930’s and the last one was from the late 1940’s, seeing those car’s I screamed “Daddy I WANT!!” Yes Darklings even tho I have my own vintage car, just seeing them was exciting, since we had to go in the same direction we were able to catch up before they turned off in another direction. On the back rear window of each car was a logo in gold lettering “Bay Bombs”, it seems they are a local vintage car club that does fund raising events with their vintage cars, including offering their cars as transportation for weddings and special occasions. What fun!
But on to the cemetery, we’d pack a picnic lunch since our brother’s grave is near a nice shade tree, and although the cemetery does an excellent job of maintenance we pulled a few weeds (good thing we brought gloves) and made sure to have cans to hold the flowers so’d they would last a few days. We ate, talked reminisce of old times, and found ourselves missing him even after these many years, Doyle had brought his Sirius radio and was using the portable to play music, we were rotating from 50’s to 40’s and back.
Suddenly Sis stood up, she looked at our brother’s tombstone and said “If there really is an afterlife, I’d like you to give us a sign! All these years, and it still hurts, I should be able to deal with it, I’m trained to but it still hurts. Do we exist after we die! Show us!”
I was shocked by my sister’s outburst, I knew our brother’s murder had affected her, it affected me too and our younger brother, but I hadn’t realize she was still is so much pain, even with her telling me I had to still work it out, she did too.
I looked at her, then stood up, she continued to look at the headstone and then after a moment we heard Ray Charles singing “Hallelujah, I love her so”. Why that song? Years ago our brother and us performed a pantomime dance to that song at a armature talent show at the Elks Lodge, we did it for fun, we were kids.
Sis looked at me and I started doing the dance moves to the song as best as I remembered it, and Sis joined in. At the end of the song we were laughing and sat down on the picnic blanket. I looked at her and asked “Did you get your answer?” She smiled with tears in her eyes and nodded, maybe it was just a coincidence but at that moment? Right after she asked her question? I was not going to question it and let it lay. Doyle looked at us with his mouth agape, shook his head and said nothing but smiled.
Then on the spur of the moment, Sis took a napkin and wiped some dust off of the smooth surface of the tombstone, put on her red lipstick and kissed it. I did the same. O.K. Darklings we were being silly, but can you imagine someone else coming along and seeing those two lipstick kisses on that headstone and what they will think? I’d like to think they’d be a bit puzzled or something.
For the rest of the day we just relaxed out in the garden, Belladonna had gone with us for the picnic and was glad to be in her familiar territory. And we each had a bottle of one of the harvest beers to relax with.
Later Darklings
Well Sis and I had a wonderful day on Friday! Of course we had our mani-pedi’s at this Salon that she knows in the City. I went with “Devil’s Lure” by Revlon, I’m not sure if it’s made anymore as it was a limited edition, but sometimes it turns up on E-Bay.
Anyway I chose it as the color is much richer, Sis decided to go with “Ginger” by Essie as it goes well with a lot of her clothes and she doesn’t want to off-put her clients by going with a strange color. But it was so nice to be pampered.
For lunch we decided upon salads as we didn’t want to be heavy and sleepy, and then to shopping, Nordstrom was our choice, but we did go into Tiffany’s, if nothing else just to drool.
I love how the staff treats its clientele even if you are window shopping. Sis saw a bracelet she fell in love with, she knew it would be perfect for her daughter. It was simple in Sterling silver and she wanted a heavy flat sterling sliver disk that was sort of thick with rounded edges to hang from it and to be engraved with her daughters’ initials in a flowing script, it was for her daughter’s birthday in November and since she would be up there to visit her at that time she wanted something very special. Her daughter had remarked how she’d like to have something like that but had been putting it off for a while; this would be very nice and classic.
At Nordstrom’s I found a lovely silk blouse in a deep camouflage green but not a boring green, with long sleeves and a shawl type collar, what dressed it up nicely were these gold buttons, and it came with three extra’s. And we had to check out the Channel counter, I was almost out of Channel #5 and purchased a bottle, trust me Darklings, I made my last bottle last for nearly 2 years. Sis found a pair of black Coach shoes that were extremely comfortable, considering that she doesn’t buy many shoes and always has her shoe repair man keep her old pairs going, buying a new pair for her is a treat and an investment.
We took a side trip to another store, I think it was Macy’s, sometimes these stores seem to run together, but we went down to the fine wares clearance area and here Sis indulged again, she found these glass starfish in 4 graduated shades of blue designed to hold things like mints, nuts, or other little goodies, and they were on sale.
Of course I had to ask her why and she said for her Tropical room, that I call her Tiki Lounge or 1950’s Hawaii, her idea of paradise. Frankly I think she was affected many years ago when she saw the singing parrots in the Tiki Room at Disneyland and of course her honeymoon many years ago to Hawaii. She told me many times “The Marriage may have failed but we’re still good friends and the honeymoon was wonderful.” Some day she’ll go back to visit, she’s been thinking of the Alanie Resort, I asked her “do you want to relax or hear the joyous sounds of children?” She replied “The place that will pamper me the most.” And something like that Darklings you should save up for, remember you’re worth it.
I found a nice little treat in the clearance section, a jar that says blood bath salts, complete with a small skull on the lid and a bat on the front of it, at the bottom it says take a relaxing bath in blood red. There were no salts in the large jar but it would be perfect to hold either Epsom salts or my own preferred bath salts. Sis teased me and said it would go perfectly with the “Bates Motel” bath towels that were given to me as a Christmas present last year. I’m putting them out in the guest bathroom for Halloween; I think I’ll put the jar there too.
But all too soon we had to leave, it was going to take forever to get home over the bridge given that it was the last Friday of the Month, and the bicyclists would be out doing their boring monthly “Critical Mass” protest, yes Darklings booooorrrrring, (someday I’ll blog about it), fortunately we didn’t encounter them, I guess we left early enough.
Still it was slow, and we decided upon Chinese take out when we got home, Doyle called and said he had a surprise and was obliging to pick up the food; I sent off several e-mails and went to pick up Belladonna. I bought her a little present, a new sweater with skulls on it as well as a brand new carry all bag, as the old one was wearing out, and it looks very stylish, at first glance one would think it was a large Michael Kors Tote bag, and then you see the mesh for the dog. Belladonna fitted perfectly into both items.
The surprise that Doyle brought home was a conglomeration of Beers, Angry Orchard’s Hard Apple Cider in a special box of 12 bottles consisting of 3 of each Crisp, Traditional Dry, Apple Ginger and Cinnfil Apple---all hard ciders. Doyle also had Pumpkin Ale by two different Breweries, and a special box packed of various Harvest Ales by Blue Moon Brewery.
Then there was Speakeasy Beer from San Francisco’s Speakeasy Brewery, this included the Tallulah pale Ale, Big Daddy, a bottle of Prohibition Porter, (I understand they are not making it anymore), and several others with that 1920’s mobster theme.
I asked him how he got these beers and he replied “A gift from a very happy and very grateful client, and he wasn’t the only one, other staffers who worked with Doyle also got beer as well all as a bonus.
I am not a coinsurer of Beer but Doyle said “we are ready for October fest”. Late September is when the micro breweries come out with their seasonal and specialized beers and ales and Doyle likes to stock up for the Fall and Winter season, I know he’ll be buying more.
So into the spare refrigerator they went in to be properly chilled and ready for that special occasion, although during October and November Doyle will occasionally indulge in the Pumpkin ales when he is relaxing on a Saturday or Sunday late afternoon, but never more than one bottle, too many spoils the enjoyment he says.
We decided to relax Friday evening and watch an old favorite “Perry Mason and the Case of the Fatal Fashion” both Sis and I remarked how we loved Barbara Hale as Della Street, so professional and confident.
In checking the mail after dinner I discovered we’d receive an invitation to an Artist showing for Saturday night, one of my art friends’ friend was doing a presentation of the ghoulish and ghastly works of art in oils and sculpture designed to be “thought pieces”. Sis of course moaned, and Doyle rolled his eyes and I said, “Well it would be interesting to see what depravity goes on in people’s minds.”
And with that remark Sis and Doyle agreed to go, provided said Sis, we all go to see “Rear Window” playing at a nearby historic movie theatre---Hitchcock in October? Perfect Timing!!!
Saturday we were up early, doing the usually grocery shopping and planed to eat dinner early, if we were still hungry when we came home I had things in the freezer that could be heated up. Not being sure when we’d get home and how perky we’d be, I decided to record Svengoolies’ presentation of that 1959 classic “The Leech Woman”, I have to say that it is a story with two morals in it, one that as men grow older their gray hairs seem to give them honor and distinction but for women as they grow older they are cast aside and pitied, the second morality tale is vanity thy name is woman, but I’ve also said you may have woman’s vanity but it is caused by man’s blindness.
Sad to say even if women are more liberated, we still have those same old idea’s running around, and women have to fight even harder.
The art show was by a friend of an artist acquaintance of mine and Sis’s and although the sculptures and paintings were very well done with a lot of thought to the subject matter they were morbid, and unsettling, dealing with the theme of horrific homicides not by shooting but by sick minds, up close and personal, emphasizing the psychopath and how they are being allowed to be free to terrorize us, we are always afraid of the terror without, but forget the terror within.
I don’t think I would have a single one of those art objects in my home, neither would Sis but some people were buying them, as investments I think, although I felt they would be better suited to a chamber of horrors in a wax museum, the gallery had to be very cool as some of the works were done in wax.
Doyle confessed that he preferred the anatomical art exhibits in which dead people were shown with their skin removed and showing the inside of how our bodies worked, those were done with injected plastic for preservation and I remember thinking how informative that exhibit was, but this was something totally different, going into the minds of psychopaths. Sis got the artists’ card she said she like to interview her (yes her) for a paper, perhaps combine it with the interview that she did with our previous ‘ghostly’ painters whose exhibit we’d seen some time ago.
And we were surprised by the artist, a short, rotund, cheerful lady, draped in purple, with a lot of silver bracelets on one wrist that jangled as she moved her hands, her hair was close cropped with natural ringlets, I looked at Sis and remarked “You’d think she’d be baking cookies for her small grandchildren” and Sis replied, “Hansel and Gretel’s old witch may have looked like her and she was going to eat them up.” I could only agree.
We did run into our ghostly couple, she just as pale as ever and he looking like he could disappear into a dark corner, her gallery show in New York went very well, almost all the paintings sold and she is embarking on a new series. “Tombstones” she said, “I’ll have it so they project out of the canvas, some will be physical installations as we are looking for old gates, and things, some will be small studies and some almost like sculptures but with a painting they will emerge from, in some ways I’m being inspired by the Night Gallery stories”. After they drifted away, I asked my Sis if she remembered how they supported themselves between showings, knowing that it does cost money to survive, she couldn’t remember, but said I might have mentioned it in my blog, now I’m going to have to look back to see.
Doyle insisted we go to an ice cream parlor that stays open late that he knows of and indulge in Ice cream, saying “I want to see something that makes me think I’m a kid of 10 again” And considering the huge banana split he ordered and devoured I’d say he got his ‘kid fix’. Sis went with just plain strawberry ice cream and I with rainbow sherbet, we too felt we had to get a strange taste out of mouths.
Sunday dawned cold and a bit overcast which eventually gave way to sunlight, we’d made plans to go to the cemetery to put flowers on our late eldest brother’s grave, something we do every year. This was one of those times when we’d be able to do it together at the same time, given how her work previously would have her traveling.
We decided to go in Doyle’s car and as we were driving to the cemetery like a vision out of the past a parade of 3 vintage cars crossed our path, 2 were from the mid to late 1930’s and the last one was from the late 1940’s, seeing those car’s I screamed “Daddy I WANT!!” Yes Darklings even tho I have my own vintage car, just seeing them was exciting, since we had to go in the same direction we were able to catch up before they turned off in another direction. On the back rear window of each car was a logo in gold lettering “Bay Bombs”, it seems they are a local vintage car club that does fund raising events with their vintage cars, including offering their cars as transportation for weddings and special occasions. What fun!
But on to the cemetery, we’d pack a picnic lunch since our brother’s grave is near a nice shade tree, and although the cemetery does an excellent job of maintenance we pulled a few weeds (good thing we brought gloves) and made sure to have cans to hold the flowers so’d they would last a few days. We ate, talked reminisce of old times, and found ourselves missing him even after these many years, Doyle had brought his Sirius radio and was using the portable to play music, we were rotating from 50’s to 40’s and back.
Suddenly Sis stood up, she looked at our brother’s tombstone and said “If there really is an afterlife, I’d like you to give us a sign! All these years, and it still hurts, I should be able to deal with it, I’m trained to but it still hurts. Do we exist after we die! Show us!”
I was shocked by my sister’s outburst, I knew our brother’s murder had affected her, it affected me too and our younger brother, but I hadn’t realize she was still is so much pain, even with her telling me I had to still work it out, she did too.
I looked at her, then stood up, she continued to look at the headstone and then after a moment we heard Ray Charles singing “Hallelujah, I love her so”. Why that song? Years ago our brother and us performed a pantomime dance to that song at a armature talent show at the Elks Lodge, we did it for fun, we were kids.
Sis looked at me and I started doing the dance moves to the song as best as I remembered it, and Sis joined in. At the end of the song we were laughing and sat down on the picnic blanket. I looked at her and asked “Did you get your answer?” She smiled with tears in her eyes and nodded, maybe it was just a coincidence but at that moment? Right after she asked her question? I was not going to question it and let it lay. Doyle looked at us with his mouth agape, shook his head and said nothing but smiled.
Then on the spur of the moment, Sis took a napkin and wiped some dust off of the smooth surface of the tombstone, put on her red lipstick and kissed it. I did the same. O.K. Darklings we were being silly, but can you imagine someone else coming along and seeing those two lipstick kisses on that headstone and what they will think? I’d like to think they’d be a bit puzzled or something.
For the rest of the day we just relaxed out in the garden, Belladonna had gone with us for the picnic and was glad to be in her familiar territory. And we each had a bottle of one of the harvest beers to relax with.
Later Darklings
Tuesday, September 17, 2013
Of a "follow up"~~~~~
Hello again Darklings,
It's good I stayed home today, to process what Doyle told me.
Dear Lucretia, thank you, Doyle has been good to me in the years that I've known him, so has his family. I think because of the tragedies that my family has been through it helps me cope with Doyle, but then Doyle has to cope with me.
My sister being a psychologist and doing consuling, even grief consuling and I having taken psychology classes it helps us to understand and be compassionate about todays tragedies and given our family's life history we see things both differently and in many ways logically. A combination of old world and new world, of late 19th early 20th as well as the ultra modern 21st century. Sometimes people think we are anachronisms, we appear to be too complacent but we really are not, the concept of "to everything there is a season" has been strongly instilled into us, but sudden tragedy is still painful.
Doyle cares, espeically when its a case dealing with children, in the years he was a police officer he's seen alot, too much I fear, and he cares alot, but he has to mentally divorce himself from emotions while working a case, something he learned years ago, but when its over and its one that he cares about, he goes to a particular bar, the bartender knows him, he'll say to the bartender "It's a quarter to three" and hands his car keys to the man, sometimes I'll know, sometimes I don't know but this I do know, when he comes home in a cab I simply confirm where he was from the driver and go from there. It doesn't happen often but I did learn this from his late wife (she passed away some years ago, we were friends) so I knew what to do.
I know in the next day or two he will call his children and ask about the grandchildren, I think when we go on our mini-vacation to Old Town Sacramento and stay on the Delta King it will be good therapy for him as well. And I'll suggest that maybe before Thanksgiving to go and visit them down in San Diego.
Doyle left about 40 minutes ago, I called a cab for him so he could pickup his car, I called the bar where he left it and they assured me it was still there and it was no problem.
I was surprised he got him self going, but he said work was good therapy for him, and he needed a certain amount of closure as well. I made a thermos of soup and one more of coffee for him to take and told him to be sure to have it or he'd feel worse. He didn't argue.
Sis called me to see how I was doing, and I hadn't realize it but the headache was still vaguely in the back ground, so I rested but suggested we get a very large order of War Won Ton Soup, she said she would get it and a loaf of sourdough French bread, so I'm putting the butter dish out later so it will be soft enough.
Soup and bread, with some warm apple sauce comfort food, no wine tonight, but tea something soothing for the head and stomach I think.
I could hear the vague banging being done on Sis's house, they are working on the back portion to create her tropical paradise, I thought the banging would bother me as I sat out on my back porch but instead it became a sort of white noise and I fell asleep in the outdoor recliner with Belladonna next to me. After an hour I woke up feeling much better and able to prepare the thermoses for Doyle.
I have soothing classical music on, and am still puttering around, doing little things that one forgets to do, and now I'm taking a tea break. Doyle won't be home for a while, exactly when he didn't say, but at least it's easy to heat up soup.
Last night waiting for Doyle I watched "Sleepy Hollow" and it was good I recorded it for Coralline, but I don't want to talk about it now.
Althought there is another new show premering tonight I'll record it, I don't think any of us wants to watch televison tonight and my Sister indicated she'd prefer to talk or put together a jigsaw puzzel, she said her paperwork could wait. Yes, for tonight somethings can wait.
Later Darklings
It's good I stayed home today, to process what Doyle told me.
Dear Lucretia, thank you, Doyle has been good to me in the years that I've known him, so has his family. I think because of the tragedies that my family has been through it helps me cope with Doyle, but then Doyle has to cope with me.
My sister being a psychologist and doing consuling, even grief consuling and I having taken psychology classes it helps us to understand and be compassionate about todays tragedies and given our family's life history we see things both differently and in many ways logically. A combination of old world and new world, of late 19th early 20th as well as the ultra modern 21st century. Sometimes people think we are anachronisms, we appear to be too complacent but we really are not, the concept of "to everything there is a season" has been strongly instilled into us, but sudden tragedy is still painful.
Doyle cares, espeically when its a case dealing with children, in the years he was a police officer he's seen alot, too much I fear, and he cares alot, but he has to mentally divorce himself from emotions while working a case, something he learned years ago, but when its over and its one that he cares about, he goes to a particular bar, the bartender knows him, he'll say to the bartender "It's a quarter to three" and hands his car keys to the man, sometimes I'll know, sometimes I don't know but this I do know, when he comes home in a cab I simply confirm where he was from the driver and go from there. It doesn't happen often but I did learn this from his late wife (she passed away some years ago, we were friends) so I knew what to do.
I know in the next day or two he will call his children and ask about the grandchildren, I think when we go on our mini-vacation to Old Town Sacramento and stay on the Delta King it will be good therapy for him as well. And I'll suggest that maybe before Thanksgiving to go and visit them down in San Diego.
Doyle left about 40 minutes ago, I called a cab for him so he could pickup his car, I called the bar where he left it and they assured me it was still there and it was no problem.
I was surprised he got him self going, but he said work was good therapy for him, and he needed a certain amount of closure as well. I made a thermos of soup and one more of coffee for him to take and told him to be sure to have it or he'd feel worse. He didn't argue.
Sis called me to see how I was doing, and I hadn't realize it but the headache was still vaguely in the back ground, so I rested but suggested we get a very large order of War Won Ton Soup, she said she would get it and a loaf of sourdough French bread, so I'm putting the butter dish out later so it will be soft enough.
Soup and bread, with some warm apple sauce comfort food, no wine tonight, but tea something soothing for the head and stomach I think.
I could hear the vague banging being done on Sis's house, they are working on the back portion to create her tropical paradise, I thought the banging would bother me as I sat out on my back porch but instead it became a sort of white noise and I fell asleep in the outdoor recliner with Belladonna next to me. After an hour I woke up feeling much better and able to prepare the thermoses for Doyle.
I have soothing classical music on, and am still puttering around, doing little things that one forgets to do, and now I'm taking a tea break. Doyle won't be home for a while, exactly when he didn't say, but at least it's easy to heat up soup.
Last night waiting for Doyle I watched "Sleepy Hollow" and it was good I recorded it for Coralline, but I don't want to talk about it now.
Althought there is another new show premering tonight I'll record it, I don't think any of us wants to watch televison tonight and my Sister indicated she'd prefer to talk or put together a jigsaw puzzel, she said her paperwork could wait. Yes, for tonight somethings can wait.
Later Darklings
 |
| Sometimes a little alone time helps |
Of A Headache and Doyle being Drunk~~~
Yes Darklings,
Doyle was drunk.
Sometimes people believe that everything is sweetness and light, and most of the time it is, my sister and I have learned to not fight, if we disagree on things we are polite about it but we also have our "off" moments, when that happens either one or the other will say "I'm not fit company right now, when I've calmed down I'll talk" so the other avoids them or goes onto other matters or does other things.
I'm not saying we dance on egg shells but we do our best to guage the others' emotions. It's called "being aware"
But sometimes things happen and that is a mental and emotional firestorm.
Doyle came home drunk last night, thank goodness someone put him in a cab, he was in no condition to drive, I was up late with a bit of a sinus headache, all one can do is compresses to relieve the pain and I decided to stay down stairs---good thing too, Belladonna started doing whining barks, and I saw that a cab had pulled in front of the house, going out side I saw that it was Doyle trying to get to his wallet.
I asked the cab driver where did he pick him up and he gave me the location, helping Doyle I paid the driver, while Doyle stumbled into the house.
It's rare that I see him in this condition so I kept quiet to see what he'd do and if he would talk, he proceeded to go to the liquior cabinet where whiskey and brandy are kept, and he pulled out a half filled bottle of Jack Daniels, I rarely drink Jack or Jim unless I have a cough, and then with honey and lemon, but this worried me.
Doyle collapsed into his chair and started drinking, I sat near by trying to ignore my headache, so I simply asked him "What's Up?" a safe phrase, and Doyle proceeded to tell me, no it was not about the Navy Yard shootings, it was about a case he had been working on, dealing with a child taken by a non-custodial parent, Doyle had been working on it for 5 months, but it didn't end well, he had more than enough information to give to another operative in another state, but the person and the child went to Canada, the operative followed. The news was sad and tragic niether person nor child are alive and Doyle is drunk, angry both at himself and at the selfishness of people who would take a child's life.
I let him drink and talk and then he feel into a stuporious sleep, and I took the bottle away, or what was left of it. I know for the next few days even weeks I'll be dealing with Doyle's dark demons when this happens, this is one of those times when the evil darkness invades our lives, last night I let him sleep in his chair first removing his shoes, belt and watch, this morning he stumbled out of it and shedding some of his rumpled clothing he manged to get into the downstairs shower in the downstairs guest room.
I put coffee on, picked up the clothes called work and said I would not be in, migraine headache (which was in the shower), Doyle came out wrapped in a towel, looking the worse for wear, manged to get to the kitchen table, Sis came down with his bathrobe and slippers, neither of us said anything and we felt anything more than coffee and toast would have him make a dash to the sink.
All three of us sat there, with Belladonna at my feet, in more coherient tones Doyle told us. We could only hold his hand, even Sis acknowledged that in part Doyle has to work it out. I called his office and they understood, even the secretary was crying. I said to him everyone feels horrible when you lose one, its no one's fault you have to look to who is really to blame, he understood, got up and called his office back said he would be in later today, he felt it would be only right to make arrangements to bring the child's body back home. Another agent who was familar with the case would notify the surviving parent.
Will it be in the papers? Not really, so much happens now a days a lot does not get reported.
Sis has gone to meet her clients, Doyle is sleeping for now, I'll wake him in about 4 hours, but for now I'm going to take Belladonna for her walk, in the sunshine, in the cool Fall weather, my headache is gone, I'll putter in the garden a bit, feed and watch my Koi, and plan things, but now I need to take things gently with Doyle for a little while. He won't get drunk again, I know that. He'll do what he can, by this time next week he'll be fully functioning, but with one more dark nightmare hidden into another compartment in his mind.
I think I'll ask if Coralline can come over this weekend, I think seeing her will help Doyle.
Later Darklings
Doyle was drunk.
Sometimes people believe that everything is sweetness and light, and most of the time it is, my sister and I have learned to not fight, if we disagree on things we are polite about it but we also have our "off" moments, when that happens either one or the other will say "I'm not fit company right now, when I've calmed down I'll talk" so the other avoids them or goes onto other matters or does other things.
I'm not saying we dance on egg shells but we do our best to guage the others' emotions. It's called "being aware"
But sometimes things happen and that is a mental and emotional firestorm.
Doyle came home drunk last night, thank goodness someone put him in a cab, he was in no condition to drive, I was up late with a bit of a sinus headache, all one can do is compresses to relieve the pain and I decided to stay down stairs---good thing too, Belladonna started doing whining barks, and I saw that a cab had pulled in front of the house, going out side I saw that it was Doyle trying to get to his wallet.
I asked the cab driver where did he pick him up and he gave me the location, helping Doyle I paid the driver, while Doyle stumbled into the house.
It's rare that I see him in this condition so I kept quiet to see what he'd do and if he would talk, he proceeded to go to the liquior cabinet where whiskey and brandy are kept, and he pulled out a half filled bottle of Jack Daniels, I rarely drink Jack or Jim unless I have a cough, and then with honey and lemon, but this worried me.
Doyle collapsed into his chair and started drinking, I sat near by trying to ignore my headache, so I simply asked him "What's Up?" a safe phrase, and Doyle proceeded to tell me, no it was not about the Navy Yard shootings, it was about a case he had been working on, dealing with a child taken by a non-custodial parent, Doyle had been working on it for 5 months, but it didn't end well, he had more than enough information to give to another operative in another state, but the person and the child went to Canada, the operative followed. The news was sad and tragic niether person nor child are alive and Doyle is drunk, angry both at himself and at the selfishness of people who would take a child's life.
I let him drink and talk and then he feel into a stuporious sleep, and I took the bottle away, or what was left of it. I know for the next few days even weeks I'll be dealing with Doyle's dark demons when this happens, this is one of those times when the evil darkness invades our lives, last night I let him sleep in his chair first removing his shoes, belt and watch, this morning he stumbled out of it and shedding some of his rumpled clothing he manged to get into the downstairs shower in the downstairs guest room.
I put coffee on, picked up the clothes called work and said I would not be in, migraine headache (which was in the shower), Doyle came out wrapped in a towel, looking the worse for wear, manged to get to the kitchen table, Sis came down with his bathrobe and slippers, neither of us said anything and we felt anything more than coffee and toast would have him make a dash to the sink.
All three of us sat there, with Belladonna at my feet, in more coherient tones Doyle told us. We could only hold his hand, even Sis acknowledged that in part Doyle has to work it out. I called his office and they understood, even the secretary was crying. I said to him everyone feels horrible when you lose one, its no one's fault you have to look to who is really to blame, he understood, got up and called his office back said he would be in later today, he felt it would be only right to make arrangements to bring the child's body back home. Another agent who was familar with the case would notify the surviving parent.
Will it be in the papers? Not really, so much happens now a days a lot does not get reported.
Sis has gone to meet her clients, Doyle is sleeping for now, I'll wake him in about 4 hours, but for now I'm going to take Belladonna for her walk, in the sunshine, in the cool Fall weather, my headache is gone, I'll putter in the garden a bit, feed and watch my Koi, and plan things, but now I need to take things gently with Doyle for a little while. He won't get drunk again, I know that. He'll do what he can, by this time next week he'll be fully functioning, but with one more dark nightmare hidden into another compartment in his mind.
I think I'll ask if Coralline can come over this weekend, I think seeing her will help Doyle.
Later Darklings
 |
| Only Doyle can climb out of his depths of dispair, but we can throw him a life line |
Thursday, September 12, 2013
Of Remembering 9/11~~~~
Yesterday Darklings, was a hard day to deal with.
It's been like that for a number of us here at work and at home, yesterday was the 12th anniversary of the 9/11 attack.
My Father once said "everyone has their own version of "Pearl Harbor", be it family related like a violent death from an accident or nation wide like the assination of Pres. John F. Kennedy. But there has to be at least once, an event wether personal or nation wide that stabs you in the heart with a pain that you feel will kill you."
My parents as they were growing up, got married, raised a family had that kind of pain several times over, the depression where their father's lost their jobs and the family struggled, Pearl Harbor which took our nation into war, the Deaths of President Roosevelt and Kennedy, the death of their eldest son, my brother.
I had it too, the horrible death of my best friend, my brother, Kennedy, I lost several friends in Vietnam, and one dear friend through Aids, but I thought I could weather it out, although the pain is there, but it wasn't until that early morning, I had been putting in a late night shift, and was leaving the office when I saw our Security Guard weeping, I went to him and he showed me on his portable T.V. set, he always watched the early morning news and to see what traffic was like so he'd know who might be in late or on time, but we saw it, those planes crashing into the towers, I stood there frozen, I could not tear my eyes away from the screen, and the event was being played out, and when I saw the plane hit the tower I felt a "stab" in my heart, that very pain my Father talked about.
In the movie Star Wars, Yoda said he felt a "disturbance in the Force" of millions of souls crying out in pain and fear, on that day I finally understood what was meant by that.
Last night Doyle, my Sister and I went to Napa where they unveiled a memorial to those who lost their lives on 9/11, Doyle knew of several police officers who died from lung cancer because of the dust particles in their lungs from that day, Sis lost several friends who were in the towers that day at a meeting, I knew of one friend who was visiting New York and wanted to go to the resteraunt in one of the towers, they never did find anything of him.
The memorial is made from several girders from the towers, simple and beautiful, with light diffusing through it. A combination of burnt steel and light, I felt it was perfect. Sis and I found the names on the panels, as we left we felt we had truely said good bye to our friends.
We will never forget. No one should.
Later Darklings
It's been like that for a number of us here at work and at home, yesterday was the 12th anniversary of the 9/11 attack.
My Father once said "everyone has their own version of "Pearl Harbor", be it family related like a violent death from an accident or nation wide like the assination of Pres. John F. Kennedy. But there has to be at least once, an event wether personal or nation wide that stabs you in the heart with a pain that you feel will kill you."
My parents as they were growing up, got married, raised a family had that kind of pain several times over, the depression where their father's lost their jobs and the family struggled, Pearl Harbor which took our nation into war, the Deaths of President Roosevelt and Kennedy, the death of their eldest son, my brother.
I had it too, the horrible death of my best friend, my brother, Kennedy, I lost several friends in Vietnam, and one dear friend through Aids, but I thought I could weather it out, although the pain is there, but it wasn't until that early morning, I had been putting in a late night shift, and was leaving the office when I saw our Security Guard weeping, I went to him and he showed me on his portable T.V. set, he always watched the early morning news and to see what traffic was like so he'd know who might be in late or on time, but we saw it, those planes crashing into the towers, I stood there frozen, I could not tear my eyes away from the screen, and the event was being played out, and when I saw the plane hit the tower I felt a "stab" in my heart, that very pain my Father talked about.
In the movie Star Wars, Yoda said he felt a "disturbance in the Force" of millions of souls crying out in pain and fear, on that day I finally understood what was meant by that.
Last night Doyle, my Sister and I went to Napa where they unveiled a memorial to those who lost their lives on 9/11, Doyle knew of several police officers who died from lung cancer because of the dust particles in their lungs from that day, Sis lost several friends who were in the towers that day at a meeting, I knew of one friend who was visiting New York and wanted to go to the resteraunt in one of the towers, they never did find anything of him.
The memorial is made from several girders from the towers, simple and beautiful, with light diffusing through it. A combination of burnt steel and light, I felt it was perfect. Sis and I found the names on the panels, as we left we felt we had truely said good bye to our friends.
We will never forget. No one should.
Later Darklings
Friday, May 24, 2013
Of Twists and Turns in the Boston Marathon Bombing~~~~
Well My Darklings,
Someday someone will write a book about this tragic event in Boston, it has more twists, turns and convoluted developments than a disorganized murder mystery.
If anything it does show that even the Tsarneaev brothers were not the angels that some people want to paint them, not even the younger one that survived , wrote a declaration saying "F### U America" and is currently being held---it’s like watching that new T.V. program “Motive” but running far longer than the movie “Gone With The Wind”.
F.B.I. and other agencies were going through contacts of the deceased Tamerlan Tsarneaev in his cell phone address book and found names going from New York to Florida, and so they’ve been questioning these contacts.
One that turned up appears to have provided a unique motive and clue to the brothers’ actions.
The F.B.I. were looking for Ibragim Todashev an Orange County, Florida man, when they received word that he had been arrested on May 4, for aggravated battery on a man and his son over a parking space in a Kissimmee Mall parking lot. Todashev pushed the father in a threatening manner and the man’s son came to his defense.
Todashev was born in Russia; when he immigrated here is unknown.
Tamerlan Tsarneaev and Todashev knew each other because they fought in mixed martial arts competitions and the F.B.I. were informed by a friend of Todashev that the two knew each other, confirming the contact number in Tamerlan Tsarneaev‘s cell phone.
With the use of DNA tracking, the DNA of the Tsarneaev brothers were run through the system and got a hit with a year old murder.
3 men, Brendan Mess, Raffael Teken and Eric Weissman, had their throats slit and their bodies were left with cash and marijuana placed on top of them. The murder took place on September 11, 2011, the ten year anniversary of the al Qaeda terror attacks on New York and Washington.
Upon Todashev’s arrest his DNA was taken and also linked to the Triple Murder. And it seems that Brendan Mess, Tamerlan Tsarneaev and Todashev all were acquainted with each other because they all trained and competed at Boston’s Wai Kru gym.
In the wake of the bombing, detectives developed DNA evidence linking both
Tamerlan Tsarnaev and his younger brother Dzhokhar to the triple murder scene.
According to officials, Todashev was initially being questioned about any role
in the marathon bombing when it emerged he had connections to the gruesome
murders. There is no initial indication Todashev was tied to the bombing, sources
familiar with the case said. (My Doyle has some thoughts on that)
Todashev was about to sign a statement admitting to a role along with Boston Marathon bombing suspect Tamerlan Tsarnaev, in the previously unsolved triple murder that occurred in Massachusetts in 2011, when suddenly Todashev "just went crazy," and pulled a knife during his interview with the FBI, stabbing one agent 6 times, before he was shot and killed during the assault.
This attack by Todashev came as a surprise when the “violent confrontation was initiated by the subject," the Bureau said in a statement. The attack occurred following the initially cooperative interview and just prior to his signing his statement.
The F.B.I. does state that Todashev had lived in Boston previously and had been in contact with Tamerlan Tsarnaev just a few weeks prior to the bombing. But the F.B.I continues to believe that Tamerlan Tsarnaev was converted to radical acts when he went back to his home country and was in touch with those who practiced and believed in such actions.
Doyle, my sister and I batted around the reasons for Todashev’s action and Doyle, being more familiar with the criminal element, stated to us, that Todashev most likely knew of the plans for the bombing, perhaps gave them more information on how to do the bombing and maybe gave Tsarnaev money to buy the materials, since all three of them were involved in the triple murders in 2011, they were already criminally involved, and Todashev, in his mind, decided that he was already a “dead man” and did something that all villains do, back up, smile, pretend to co-operate, then attack and attempt to take out as many “pigs” as possible, a suicide attempt. It had been proven that his was an aggressive personality, witness the fact that he had been arrested for battery upon two people over, of all things, a parking space.
Even if Todashev did not have a knife, he was trained in Martial Arts and could have made a very life threatening Martial Arts move that could have either killed or seriously injured another person. What is known is this the F.B.I. agent that was allegedly stabbed sustained injuries that were fortunately non-life threatening. No other agents or Massachusetts state police officers who were there for the interview. were injured. Further investigation into Todashev life will be looked into, after this bizarre twist into the Boston Marathon Bombing.
It things like this when one reads about it, that always adds questions to one’s mind about the minds of other people, the constant “why” of things. My sister and I believe that most murders occur for either money, passion, power, revenge and the sickest reason of all “Just for fun”. And passion can include love, or mis-guided love or a mis-guided cause.
It’s no wonder I’m always intrigued with police proceedurals, I’m constantly trying to figure out the motive.
I’ve said this once before Darklings but I’ll say it again, Agatha Cristie once remarked that the “most evil criminal (or crime) is a person who persuades another to commit murder,” just view Shakespears play, “Othello”. That would also include terrorists who persuade young impressionable people to commit the killing for them, instead of seeking how to create a working peace to rebuild their lives.
Later Darklings
Someday someone will write a book about this tragic event in Boston, it has more twists, turns and convoluted developments than a disorganized murder mystery.
If anything it does show that even the Tsarneaev brothers were not the angels that some people want to paint them, not even the younger one that survived , wrote a declaration saying "F### U America" and is currently being held---it’s like watching that new T.V. program “Motive” but running far longer than the movie “Gone With The Wind”.
F.B.I. and other agencies were going through contacts of the deceased Tamerlan Tsarneaev in his cell phone address book and found names going from New York to Florida, and so they’ve been questioning these contacts.
One that turned up appears to have provided a unique motive and clue to the brothers’ actions.
The F.B.I. were looking for Ibragim Todashev an Orange County, Florida man, when they received word that he had been arrested on May 4, for aggravated battery on a man and his son over a parking space in a Kissimmee Mall parking lot. Todashev pushed the father in a threatening manner and the man’s son came to his defense.
Todashev was born in Russia; when he immigrated here is unknown.
Tamerlan Tsarneaev and Todashev knew each other because they fought in mixed martial arts competitions and the F.B.I. were informed by a friend of Todashev that the two knew each other, confirming the contact number in Tamerlan Tsarneaev‘s cell phone.
With the use of DNA tracking, the DNA of the Tsarneaev brothers were run through the system and got a hit with a year old murder.
3 men, Brendan Mess, Raffael Teken and Eric Weissman, had their throats slit and their bodies were left with cash and marijuana placed on top of them. The murder took place on September 11, 2011, the ten year anniversary of the al Qaeda terror attacks on New York and Washington.
Upon Todashev’s arrest his DNA was taken and also linked to the Triple Murder. And it seems that Brendan Mess, Tamerlan Tsarneaev and Todashev all were acquainted with each other because they all trained and competed at Boston’s Wai Kru gym.
In the wake of the bombing, detectives developed DNA evidence linking both
Tamerlan Tsarnaev and his younger brother Dzhokhar to the triple murder scene.
According to officials, Todashev was initially being questioned about any role
in the marathon bombing when it emerged he had connections to the gruesome
murders. There is no initial indication Todashev was tied to the bombing, sources
familiar with the case said. (My Doyle has some thoughts on that)
Todashev was about to sign a statement admitting to a role along with Boston Marathon bombing suspect Tamerlan Tsarnaev, in the previously unsolved triple murder that occurred in Massachusetts in 2011, when suddenly Todashev "just went crazy," and pulled a knife during his interview with the FBI, stabbing one agent 6 times, before he was shot and killed during the assault.
This attack by Todashev came as a surprise when the “violent confrontation was initiated by the subject," the Bureau said in a statement. The attack occurred following the initially cooperative interview and just prior to his signing his statement.
The F.B.I. does state that Todashev had lived in Boston previously and had been in contact with Tamerlan Tsarnaev just a few weeks prior to the bombing. But the F.B.I continues to believe that Tamerlan Tsarnaev was converted to radical acts when he went back to his home country and was in touch with those who practiced and believed in such actions.
Doyle, my sister and I batted around the reasons for Todashev’s action and Doyle, being more familiar with the criminal element, stated to us, that Todashev most likely knew of the plans for the bombing, perhaps gave them more information on how to do the bombing and maybe gave Tsarnaev money to buy the materials, since all three of them were involved in the triple murders in 2011, they were already criminally involved, and Todashev, in his mind, decided that he was already a “dead man” and did something that all villains do, back up, smile, pretend to co-operate, then attack and attempt to take out as many “pigs” as possible, a suicide attempt. It had been proven that his was an aggressive personality, witness the fact that he had been arrested for battery upon two people over, of all things, a parking space.
Even if Todashev did not have a knife, he was trained in Martial Arts and could have made a very life threatening Martial Arts move that could have either killed or seriously injured another person. What is known is this the F.B.I. agent that was allegedly stabbed sustained injuries that were fortunately non-life threatening. No other agents or Massachusetts state police officers who were there for the interview. were injured. Further investigation into Todashev life will be looked into, after this bizarre twist into the Boston Marathon Bombing.
It things like this when one reads about it, that always adds questions to one’s mind about the minds of other people, the constant “why” of things. My sister and I believe that most murders occur for either money, passion, power, revenge and the sickest reason of all “Just for fun”. And passion can include love, or mis-guided love or a mis-guided cause.
It’s no wonder I’m always intrigued with police proceedurals, I’m constantly trying to figure out the motive.
I’ve said this once before Darklings but I’ll say it again, Agatha Cristie once remarked that the “most evil criminal (or crime) is a person who persuades another to commit murder,” just view Shakespears play, “Othello”. That would also include terrorists who persuade young impressionable people to commit the killing for them, instead of seeking how to create a working peace to rebuild their lives.
Later Darklings
Tuesday, May 21, 2013
Of Thank Yous' and further thoughts~~~~
Hello My Darklings,
Dear Underground for Tea, Rebecca and all of you who expressed kind thoughts about the loss of our brother, Thank You to all of you.
Yes, even now years later the loss is painful but now we’ve come to accept that, I feel that it was the religious faith my parents and family members had and instilled into us that to each of our lives there is pain. That all of life is a learning lesson, we cannot learn if we do not struggle, we cannot appreciate the joys unless we also have the losses.
Mother would look to the “Sorrows of Mary” to understand the pain a parent must go through, if more people would look to that it can at least, help towards understanding that we all must go through some form of that. It is ages old, and will continue forever, that is why we contribute to St. Jude Hospital and programs that will help young people learn to avoid violence, to lead them away from violent acts. When our Parents learned of the hospital that Danny Thomas founded, they contributed regularly and often in memory of Matt.
St. Jude is the patron saint of hopeless causes or situations; Danny Thomas was a struggling comedian he vowed if he became successful he would build a shrine to St. Jude to help those in need. He did become successful and he never forgot his vow; many old timers remember his T.V. program “Make Room for Daddy”, he produced other T.V. programs, his daughter Marlo Thomas starred in her own program “That Girl”. Danny Thomas made good on his promise to St. Jude; his daughter continues the work her father started.
So even now for anyone with a heart breaking loss, like those who are now suffering from the devastation the Tornado’s caused in Kansas, you can only come out of it stronger, to have the faith and patience of the prophet Job, the love and compassion of Mother Mary to deal with heart brake. To give into it only means that you will never live to appreciate and to grow from what your loved one’s have taught you, you have to grow stronger.
It is what helped my family and especially my sister and I expanded on what our brother taught us, my sister and younger brother passed this on to their children and with my sister’s oldest daughter she is passing it on to her children. We don’t turn away from disaster or horror, we deal with it, we’ve made sure that our children (or for me nieces and nephews) are not naïve about people and situations.
Matt’s professor, his other teachers and the dean of his college posthumously awarded his college degree, our youngest brother marched onto the stage to receive it in Matt’s memory. Our parents framed it and hung it up on a special wall next to Matt’s picture.
Our younger Brother has it now.
By Matt’s example, we, his siblings worked hard to get scholarships to go to college so it would be less of a financial burden on our parents, we also worked part time to off-set costs, we did it because Matt inspired us, but Dad insisted that we go to a college that was much closer to home so we’d only be a hour from home by bus, if we had to study late Dad or Uncle Mannie would make every effort to pick us up, perhaps our family was being over protective but understandable and we did not object.
Every year, on or near the date of what would be his graduation one or all of us, takes flowers to his grave, in celebration of his life.
Perhaps that is also what being Goth is all about, to understand the sufferings of the world, to know the darkness, to understand it, and to make it a little less dark
Again my Darklings, Thank You for your kind thoughts and words.
Later Darklings
Dear Underground for Tea, Rebecca and all of you who expressed kind thoughts about the loss of our brother, Thank You to all of you.
Yes, even now years later the loss is painful but now we’ve come to accept that, I feel that it was the religious faith my parents and family members had and instilled into us that to each of our lives there is pain. That all of life is a learning lesson, we cannot learn if we do not struggle, we cannot appreciate the joys unless we also have the losses.
Mother would look to the “Sorrows of Mary” to understand the pain a parent must go through, if more people would look to that it can at least, help towards understanding that we all must go through some form of that. It is ages old, and will continue forever, that is why we contribute to St. Jude Hospital and programs that will help young people learn to avoid violence, to lead them away from violent acts. When our Parents learned of the hospital that Danny Thomas founded, they contributed regularly and often in memory of Matt.
St. Jude is the patron saint of hopeless causes or situations; Danny Thomas was a struggling comedian he vowed if he became successful he would build a shrine to St. Jude to help those in need. He did become successful and he never forgot his vow; many old timers remember his T.V. program “Make Room for Daddy”, he produced other T.V. programs, his daughter Marlo Thomas starred in her own program “That Girl”. Danny Thomas made good on his promise to St. Jude; his daughter continues the work her father started.
So even now for anyone with a heart breaking loss, like those who are now suffering from the devastation the Tornado’s caused in Kansas, you can only come out of it stronger, to have the faith and patience of the prophet Job, the love and compassion of Mother Mary to deal with heart brake. To give into it only means that you will never live to appreciate and to grow from what your loved one’s have taught you, you have to grow stronger.
It is what helped my family and especially my sister and I expanded on what our brother taught us, my sister and younger brother passed this on to their children and with my sister’s oldest daughter she is passing it on to her children. We don’t turn away from disaster or horror, we deal with it, we’ve made sure that our children (or for me nieces and nephews) are not naïve about people and situations.
Matt’s professor, his other teachers and the dean of his college posthumously awarded his college degree, our youngest brother marched onto the stage to receive it in Matt’s memory. Our parents framed it and hung it up on a special wall next to Matt’s picture.
Our younger Brother has it now.
By Matt’s example, we, his siblings worked hard to get scholarships to go to college so it would be less of a financial burden on our parents, we also worked part time to off-set costs, we did it because Matt inspired us, but Dad insisted that we go to a college that was much closer to home so we’d only be a hour from home by bus, if we had to study late Dad or Uncle Mannie would make every effort to pick us up, perhaps our family was being over protective but understandable and we did not object.
Every year, on or near the date of what would be his graduation one or all of us, takes flowers to his grave, in celebration of his life.
Perhaps that is also what being Goth is all about, to understand the sufferings of the world, to know the darkness, to understand it, and to make it a little less dark
Again my Darklings, Thank You for your kind thoughts and words.
In my next post it will be something much less sad.
Later Darklings
Sunday, May 19, 2013
Of Death and Darkness, the changes in my life~~~
Hello My Darklings
In my previous post on my beauty routine, I had a chance to write that out over a period of time, but this one, I wrote in the quiet of the evening over a few days, and with reflection. This morning I was up very early, taking Belladonna for her walk and enjoying the hint of heat in the air, the bird song, the way the sun slowly brightened the landscape, flowers, early squirrels looking for food and scampering away.
I felt a mixture of enjoyment of the beauty around me and sadness that someone I dearly loved was not physically here to enjoy it. When I returned I could hear my sister and Doyle moving around, we will leave in a few minutes to go out for breakfast, Belladonna in her carry-along. But while I’m waiting for them I re-read what I have written about my beloved Brother, his was the 2nd major tragedy that helped complete my turning to the Dark side of life, to my own type of Gothicness.
In this post I’m going to ramble down a sad portion of my Memory Lane, it may even explain why my mental thinking is the way it is, why I turned towards the Goth side of life.
On our Spa Weekend, my sister and I, in a period of deep reflection talked about our older brother, Matt. Now Darklings I have mentioned my sister and my younger brother but we did have an older brother and he was another tragedy in mine and my family’s life.
His was a death that should not have happened but it did. Matt was 8 years older than I, born before the start of WWII, and with Dad in the military there was a delay before there were younger siblings. Dad wrote long letters to Mother and Matt, he and Mother had devised a code to say where he was based when over seas, sometimes it was certain words, sometimes it was coded in a poem.
According to Mother, when she got a letter from Dad, Matt became excited and got out the maps and code book, together they followed the military movements carefully, then finally in 1946 when Dad was de-mobbed it was a joyous re-union.
Matt during the War Years, developed a liking for ciphers, and codes, Dad through a police friend was able to get a radio scanner for Matt so he could follow what was happening with our local and county police department. Because of this he knew what was happening in our town before it was printed in the paper, later because of his interest in hidden things, he learned about code words for mind reading acts, he and Mother develop their own mind reading act for amateur programs at the local Elks lodge that entertained and amazed people. Later as I grew up he taught me code words so we could communicate with each other while other people were around and have the others not know. At times it became very handy and Matt taught me how to be secretive without showing that I was.
Later Matt became adapt at spotting suspicious activity, or seeing that something was not quite right, and yet being “invisible”. Instead of privately investigating he’d go to the police station to talk to Dad’s police friend, Tom and report to him what he’d seen. More than once his observations helped crack a crime problem. My brother wanted to be a police investigator. He read the Sherlock Holmes stories, books on spies and how to spy.
But Dad wanted him to eventually go to college and be something else, he felt that what Matt was doing could become dangerous. But I and Sis thought that Matt was a hero, our younger brother admired him for his cleverness. Matt attained good grades in grammar and High School, and received a scholarship for college, we could not have been happier for him. He decided to major in psychology, he felt that would be a good basis for police investigation.
Through him both Sis and I learned about the behavior of people, but our earlier experiences with our older brother also taught us to observe people’s actions and to always be suspicious. We also, through his tutoring, learned code words and simple actions to signal to each other our thoughts when with a group of people. On hot days with the use of a simple fan to fan ourselves we could communicate with each other over a limited distance.
All of us loved to watch and listen to the mystery programs both on the radio (yes, at one time radio had programs much like television) and on T.V., because of this Dad would refer to us as the local version of “The Baker Street” irregulars. And when his police friend came over to visit we were always included in the adult conversations. In many ways it cautioned us about “evil people” and that men, women and sometimes children could be “evil”.
In those days we could wander all over town and not be afraid of being kidnapped, we learned from our brother, and most of the time he’d be with us, keeping an eye on us. If he wasn’t around we’d stay close to home or let our parents know if we were at a friends house. We made it a policy to let our parents know by phone when we arrived and when we were leaving, Matt taught us that as a pre-caution.
Dad’s police friend Tom use to quote several lines from Shakespeare “To smile and smile and still be a villain” and Poloneus speech to Laretes, as well as explaining Hamlet’s remark “The play’s the think where upon to catch the conscious of the King”. He told us that the play Hamlet and Macbeth were murder mysteries, how was Hamlet going to prove that his uncle was a murderer, Hamlet was not indecisive, but needed public proof, unfortunately, said Tom, Shakespeare could not find the words to express that, except on a spiritual level.
Macbeth was more psychological, seeing how greed, vaulted ambitions could lead to murder and madness, unfortunately to be in politics, said Tom, it was best to not have a conscious. Even today I agree with Tom’s assessment.
Over the years we all, Dad, Mom, my siblings, Grandma, Uncle Mannie and Dad’s friend Tom, when we got together would discuss the dark side of human nature. And strangely enough Matt, I and Sis enjoyed it. Our younger brother would go off and play with his toy soldiers or listen to a sports game on the radio and in his own way tuned out, until dessert was served.
This along with other personal experiences led to my becoming more Goth, more darkly inclined.
Then one day tragedy happened. Matt disappeared, it was a Friday, he went to his college classes as usual, he was in the middle of his Senior year in college and working hard on his paper to receive a Bachelors in psychology, he was planning to go back to get a Masters and was being mentored by one of the psychology professors. For the last two years he was living in a dorm near the college but was always calling home to talk to someone in the family to stay in touch, sometimes calling as much as 3 times a day. Mom always sent to him a roll of dimes so he could call, and reverse the charges. Dad didn’t mind, it was one bill he liked paying, just to be in touch with his oldest child.
Matt had friends and acquaintances in college as well as home, lots of times he take the bus home for the weekends unless he had important exams or a paper that needed to be presented but he’d call in advance to let us know.
This time there was only one call, to say he was coming home for the weekend and to not to worry he was going to make arrangements for a friend to pick him up at the bus station and bring him home, we didn’t ask who it was.
He never made it.
We knew what the bus schedule was and we knew what time the last bus would arrive and even if it was late Dad would stay up to greet Matt when he got home, but he didn’t get home.
After Midnight Dad called Tom to find out if there was any accidents on the highway or in town, any kind of delay, there wasn’t. Tom was worried as well but protocol demanded that a person had to be missing 48 hours, I remember how upset Dad became saying to Tom that Matt could be seriously injured and time was a factor, so Tom bent the rules.
In tracing Matt’s movements after his last class, we discovered that he went and talked to his Professor and gave him his paper for review, grabbed a bite to eat with a couple of classmates and they saw him off on the last bus that left the campus that evening, he caught his connecting bus and the driver remembered seeing him get off as he was his last passenger. Before the bus driver pulled away he remembered Matt looking around for someone but didn’t see him and said to the driver as the driver held the door open “I’m sure my friend will be here soon, Thanks!” waved and the bus driver pulled away. But as the driver pulled away he saw a dark older model car go in the opposite direction then do a U-turn and pull up to where Matt was. That was the last time anyone saw him.
The days that followed were agony, Mother and Dad were trying to be brave, Grandma came to the house and stayed with us, Sis, our younger brother and I were told not to leave the house unless an adult was with us or to play in the back yard, but we didn’t feel like playing, we just quietly talked about Matt’s disappearance.
Uncle Mannie showed up about a week later after finishing an out of town contracting job. When we wanted to go to the store Uncle Mannie went with us, he made himself useful around the house doing repairs, yard work or painting to keep himself busy and to free up Dad so Dad could talk to our brothers friends. Tom worked the case looking for any possible clue.
Matt had been missing for three weeks, when one of our neighbors asked if we could baby-sit her dog, a beagle named Sammy, we loved Sammy, if we wanted to play with him she’d let us because it was good exercise for such an active dog. His owner was going out of town for a few days and knew we’d take good care of the dog. One game that we played with Sammy often was “seek”, we’d hide something of ours, like a doll or a shoe or something then we’d have Sammy sniff our hands and then say “seek” and Sammy would always find what ever was hidden making a howling bark too when on the trail, which the other neighbors didn’t exactly appreciate.
We had Sammy in our yard and Uncle Mannie was watching us, when we did “seek” Uncle Mannie jumped up, went into the house and brought out Dad, Dad saw what Sammy did. Now Sammy was not a trained blood hound or what now a days people would call Cadaver Dogs, but he had a good nose.
By this time Tom and the other officers had figured that Matt had been murdered, and it was narrowed down to 3 suspects. Sis and I knew them but there was one we really didn’t like, and we told Matt some months before we didn’t like him, he seemed “off”, Matt understood but said that this friend had been helpful with some research and was just quirky. But I remembered telling Matt that I thought his friend hated him and explained to him why I thought that, Matt understood and promised to stay away from him if we felt that way.
Dad told Tom about Sammy, Tom thought it was crazy but thought that the idea of using Sammy might reveal something. Sammy revealed more than that. He found Matt’s body, or really a part of his body. My brother had been hacked into sections and buried in different spots. Sammy found Matt’s head buried in the back yard of the parents home of the guy Sis and I didn’t like. The person later showed where the rest of Matt was buried.
The reason he killed Matt was jealousy. It seems that the person that Matt had hoped would be able to pick him up was sick so Matt reluctantly called this guy, because he knew his other friends were out of town and he knew the family car was in the shop so Dad would be unable pick him up at the bus stop.
While they were driving to our house Matt talked to him about the final paper and about graduation and this was the trigger that set his alleged friend off, in stead of taking the usual route home he took a side route that was more deserted, claiming that road work was being done on the street, Matt was tired and just let the explanation go, then on an empty stretch of road he said something was wrong with the front passenger tire and pulled over, Matt got out to check and his friend ran over him with the car. He dumped the body into the trunk and later went to a deserted place and hacked the body into sections burying parts here and there with the head perversely buried in his parents back yard with some tomato plants on top.
Matt’s friend was brilliant, but quirky, sometimes talking about theories about President Roosevelt having been murdered and other things that was too fantastic to believe. He had a temper which would go off if he became too agitated, his parents refused to have him attend college because of his behavior, and instead he worked for a man that his parents knew, it was a menial almost degrading job for someone of his intelligence, but his behavior was, in his parents mind, too unstable. How right they were.
Matt liked the guy and appreciated how smart he was and thought that by having him do some research work it would make him feel important and valuable. At first it seemed to work that way, but then his friend began to resent Matt’s kindness, which even included going so far as to giving his friend credit for uncovering information that helped Matt pull his research papers together. Matt talked to his Professor to see if there was some way the guy could work for the college. But because Matt was going to college and graduating and going back for a Master’s, it tipped this man into a blind rage.
The guy never went to trial for his crime, when Sammy found Matt’s head, he revealed where the rest of Matt’s body was, then he went complete insane. He died a few years later in a fire at the mental institution where he was confined, it appears the fire was an electrical short that started in his room. When Mother heard that she had a very satisfied look on her face remarking at the dinner table to Dad “Matt took care of him”. In the years between Matt’s death and the death of his murderer, everyone was trying to get their lives put back together, Mother and Dad realized even in their grief that I especially was having a hard time, Matt had gone to college when my friend Betty had died and now this but it wasn’t until we heard about Matt’s killer having died in a horrible way could we finally put things behind us. Our parents and grandmother stopped having that haunted look. Uncle Mannie was credited with the solution to finding Matt. Tom received a promotion in the Department. In the end we all finally had a form of closure.
When Sis and I talked about our older brother and how much he had influenced us alive and dead and our choices, it wasn’t so much a dark cloud as a dark wing, that sped us to look into the darkness of people’s minds. We always were interested in the dark twistings of people’s minds after that, Mom and Dad never prevented us from reading about gruesome murder’s in the newspapers or on Television. The Death of John F. Kennedy was played out before us on the Media, that we even began to think about conspiracies even to this very day, the sunshine of our Camelot died for us a year before and now for the nation, we never looked at anything or anyone the same way again, we never trusted anything or anyone the same way again.
Sis and I fell back into using the code words, hand and facial signals, even again on hot days the fan signals to communicate. Our brother eventually learned as well. All three of us watched people more closely, more suspiciously, and it carried over into our college years, and beyond. I learned to shoot a gun, and carried a form of pepper spray when I worked nights, we never had our doors unlocked ever again. When either of us traveled alone we always used precautions to avoid harm. And today over 50 years later we are still suspicious, even more so, because we know and understand the dark side of the mind. Our brother even in death, taught us that.
Later Darklings
In my previous post on my beauty routine, I had a chance to write that out over a period of time, but this one, I wrote in the quiet of the evening over a few days, and with reflection. This morning I was up very early, taking Belladonna for her walk and enjoying the hint of heat in the air, the bird song, the way the sun slowly brightened the landscape, flowers, early squirrels looking for food and scampering away.
I felt a mixture of enjoyment of the beauty around me and sadness that someone I dearly loved was not physically here to enjoy it. When I returned I could hear my sister and Doyle moving around, we will leave in a few minutes to go out for breakfast, Belladonna in her carry-along. But while I’m waiting for them I re-read what I have written about my beloved Brother, his was the 2nd major tragedy that helped complete my turning to the Dark side of life, to my own type of Gothicness.
In this post I’m going to ramble down a sad portion of my Memory Lane, it may even explain why my mental thinking is the way it is, why I turned towards the Goth side of life.
On our Spa Weekend, my sister and I, in a period of deep reflection talked about our older brother, Matt. Now Darklings I have mentioned my sister and my younger brother but we did have an older brother and he was another tragedy in mine and my family’s life.
His was a death that should not have happened but it did. Matt was 8 years older than I, born before the start of WWII, and with Dad in the military there was a delay before there were younger siblings. Dad wrote long letters to Mother and Matt, he and Mother had devised a code to say where he was based when over seas, sometimes it was certain words, sometimes it was coded in a poem.
According to Mother, when she got a letter from Dad, Matt became excited and got out the maps and code book, together they followed the military movements carefully, then finally in 1946 when Dad was de-mobbed it was a joyous re-union.
Matt during the War Years, developed a liking for ciphers, and codes, Dad through a police friend was able to get a radio scanner for Matt so he could follow what was happening with our local and county police department. Because of this he knew what was happening in our town before it was printed in the paper, later because of his interest in hidden things, he learned about code words for mind reading acts, he and Mother develop their own mind reading act for amateur programs at the local Elks lodge that entertained and amazed people. Later as I grew up he taught me code words so we could communicate with each other while other people were around and have the others not know. At times it became very handy and Matt taught me how to be secretive without showing that I was.
Later Matt became adapt at spotting suspicious activity, or seeing that something was not quite right, and yet being “invisible”. Instead of privately investigating he’d go to the police station to talk to Dad’s police friend, Tom and report to him what he’d seen. More than once his observations helped crack a crime problem. My brother wanted to be a police investigator. He read the Sherlock Holmes stories, books on spies and how to spy.
But Dad wanted him to eventually go to college and be something else, he felt that what Matt was doing could become dangerous. But I and Sis thought that Matt was a hero, our younger brother admired him for his cleverness. Matt attained good grades in grammar and High School, and received a scholarship for college, we could not have been happier for him. He decided to major in psychology, he felt that would be a good basis for police investigation.
Through him both Sis and I learned about the behavior of people, but our earlier experiences with our older brother also taught us to observe people’s actions and to always be suspicious. We also, through his tutoring, learned code words and simple actions to signal to each other our thoughts when with a group of people. On hot days with the use of a simple fan to fan ourselves we could communicate with each other over a limited distance.
All of us loved to watch and listen to the mystery programs both on the radio (yes, at one time radio had programs much like television) and on T.V., because of this Dad would refer to us as the local version of “The Baker Street” irregulars. And when his police friend came over to visit we were always included in the adult conversations. In many ways it cautioned us about “evil people” and that men, women and sometimes children could be “evil”.
In those days we could wander all over town and not be afraid of being kidnapped, we learned from our brother, and most of the time he’d be with us, keeping an eye on us. If he wasn’t around we’d stay close to home or let our parents know if we were at a friends house. We made it a policy to let our parents know by phone when we arrived and when we were leaving, Matt taught us that as a pre-caution.
Dad’s police friend Tom use to quote several lines from Shakespeare “To smile and smile and still be a villain” and Poloneus speech to Laretes, as well as explaining Hamlet’s remark “The play’s the think where upon to catch the conscious of the King”. He told us that the play Hamlet and Macbeth were murder mysteries, how was Hamlet going to prove that his uncle was a murderer, Hamlet was not indecisive, but needed public proof, unfortunately, said Tom, Shakespeare could not find the words to express that, except on a spiritual level.
Macbeth was more psychological, seeing how greed, vaulted ambitions could lead to murder and madness, unfortunately to be in politics, said Tom, it was best to not have a conscious. Even today I agree with Tom’s assessment.
Over the years we all, Dad, Mom, my siblings, Grandma, Uncle Mannie and Dad’s friend Tom, when we got together would discuss the dark side of human nature. And strangely enough Matt, I and Sis enjoyed it. Our younger brother would go off and play with his toy soldiers or listen to a sports game on the radio and in his own way tuned out, until dessert was served.
This along with other personal experiences led to my becoming more Goth, more darkly inclined.
Then one day tragedy happened. Matt disappeared, it was a Friday, he went to his college classes as usual, he was in the middle of his Senior year in college and working hard on his paper to receive a Bachelors in psychology, he was planning to go back to get a Masters and was being mentored by one of the psychology professors. For the last two years he was living in a dorm near the college but was always calling home to talk to someone in the family to stay in touch, sometimes calling as much as 3 times a day. Mom always sent to him a roll of dimes so he could call, and reverse the charges. Dad didn’t mind, it was one bill he liked paying, just to be in touch with his oldest child.
Matt had friends and acquaintances in college as well as home, lots of times he take the bus home for the weekends unless he had important exams or a paper that needed to be presented but he’d call in advance to let us know.
This time there was only one call, to say he was coming home for the weekend and to not to worry he was going to make arrangements for a friend to pick him up at the bus station and bring him home, we didn’t ask who it was.
He never made it.
We knew what the bus schedule was and we knew what time the last bus would arrive and even if it was late Dad would stay up to greet Matt when he got home, but he didn’t get home.
After Midnight Dad called Tom to find out if there was any accidents on the highway or in town, any kind of delay, there wasn’t. Tom was worried as well but protocol demanded that a person had to be missing 48 hours, I remember how upset Dad became saying to Tom that Matt could be seriously injured and time was a factor, so Tom bent the rules.
In tracing Matt’s movements after his last class, we discovered that he went and talked to his Professor and gave him his paper for review, grabbed a bite to eat with a couple of classmates and they saw him off on the last bus that left the campus that evening, he caught his connecting bus and the driver remembered seeing him get off as he was his last passenger. Before the bus driver pulled away he remembered Matt looking around for someone but didn’t see him and said to the driver as the driver held the door open “I’m sure my friend will be here soon, Thanks!” waved and the bus driver pulled away. But as the driver pulled away he saw a dark older model car go in the opposite direction then do a U-turn and pull up to where Matt was. That was the last time anyone saw him.
The days that followed were agony, Mother and Dad were trying to be brave, Grandma came to the house and stayed with us, Sis, our younger brother and I were told not to leave the house unless an adult was with us or to play in the back yard, but we didn’t feel like playing, we just quietly talked about Matt’s disappearance.
Uncle Mannie showed up about a week later after finishing an out of town contracting job. When we wanted to go to the store Uncle Mannie went with us, he made himself useful around the house doing repairs, yard work or painting to keep himself busy and to free up Dad so Dad could talk to our brothers friends. Tom worked the case looking for any possible clue.
Matt had been missing for three weeks, when one of our neighbors asked if we could baby-sit her dog, a beagle named Sammy, we loved Sammy, if we wanted to play with him she’d let us because it was good exercise for such an active dog. His owner was going out of town for a few days and knew we’d take good care of the dog. One game that we played with Sammy often was “seek”, we’d hide something of ours, like a doll or a shoe or something then we’d have Sammy sniff our hands and then say “seek” and Sammy would always find what ever was hidden making a howling bark too when on the trail, which the other neighbors didn’t exactly appreciate.
We had Sammy in our yard and Uncle Mannie was watching us, when we did “seek” Uncle Mannie jumped up, went into the house and brought out Dad, Dad saw what Sammy did. Now Sammy was not a trained blood hound or what now a days people would call Cadaver Dogs, but he had a good nose.
By this time Tom and the other officers had figured that Matt had been murdered, and it was narrowed down to 3 suspects. Sis and I knew them but there was one we really didn’t like, and we told Matt some months before we didn’t like him, he seemed “off”, Matt understood but said that this friend had been helpful with some research and was just quirky. But I remembered telling Matt that I thought his friend hated him and explained to him why I thought that, Matt understood and promised to stay away from him if we felt that way.
Dad told Tom about Sammy, Tom thought it was crazy but thought that the idea of using Sammy might reveal something. Sammy revealed more than that. He found Matt’s body, or really a part of his body. My brother had been hacked into sections and buried in different spots. Sammy found Matt’s head buried in the back yard of the parents home of the guy Sis and I didn’t like. The person later showed where the rest of Matt was buried.
The reason he killed Matt was jealousy. It seems that the person that Matt had hoped would be able to pick him up was sick so Matt reluctantly called this guy, because he knew his other friends were out of town and he knew the family car was in the shop so Dad would be unable pick him up at the bus stop.
While they were driving to our house Matt talked to him about the final paper and about graduation and this was the trigger that set his alleged friend off, in stead of taking the usual route home he took a side route that was more deserted, claiming that road work was being done on the street, Matt was tired and just let the explanation go, then on an empty stretch of road he said something was wrong with the front passenger tire and pulled over, Matt got out to check and his friend ran over him with the car. He dumped the body into the trunk and later went to a deserted place and hacked the body into sections burying parts here and there with the head perversely buried in his parents back yard with some tomato plants on top.
Matt’s friend was brilliant, but quirky, sometimes talking about theories about President Roosevelt having been murdered and other things that was too fantastic to believe. He had a temper which would go off if he became too agitated, his parents refused to have him attend college because of his behavior, and instead he worked for a man that his parents knew, it was a menial almost degrading job for someone of his intelligence, but his behavior was, in his parents mind, too unstable. How right they were.
Matt liked the guy and appreciated how smart he was and thought that by having him do some research work it would make him feel important and valuable. At first it seemed to work that way, but then his friend began to resent Matt’s kindness, which even included going so far as to giving his friend credit for uncovering information that helped Matt pull his research papers together. Matt talked to his Professor to see if there was some way the guy could work for the college. But because Matt was going to college and graduating and going back for a Master’s, it tipped this man into a blind rage.
The guy never went to trial for his crime, when Sammy found Matt’s head, he revealed where the rest of Matt’s body was, then he went complete insane. He died a few years later in a fire at the mental institution where he was confined, it appears the fire was an electrical short that started in his room. When Mother heard that she had a very satisfied look on her face remarking at the dinner table to Dad “Matt took care of him”. In the years between Matt’s death and the death of his murderer, everyone was trying to get their lives put back together, Mother and Dad realized even in their grief that I especially was having a hard time, Matt had gone to college when my friend Betty had died and now this but it wasn’t until we heard about Matt’s killer having died in a horrible way could we finally put things behind us. Our parents and grandmother stopped having that haunted look. Uncle Mannie was credited with the solution to finding Matt. Tom received a promotion in the Department. In the end we all finally had a form of closure.
When Sis and I talked about our older brother and how much he had influenced us alive and dead and our choices, it wasn’t so much a dark cloud as a dark wing, that sped us to look into the darkness of people’s minds. We always were interested in the dark twistings of people’s minds after that, Mom and Dad never prevented us from reading about gruesome murder’s in the newspapers or on Television. The Death of John F. Kennedy was played out before us on the Media, that we even began to think about conspiracies even to this very day, the sunshine of our Camelot died for us a year before and now for the nation, we never looked at anything or anyone the same way again, we never trusted anything or anyone the same way again.
Sis and I fell back into using the code words, hand and facial signals, even again on hot days the fan signals to communicate. Our brother eventually learned as well. All three of us watched people more closely, more suspiciously, and it carried over into our college years, and beyond. I learned to shoot a gun, and carried a form of pepper spray when I worked nights, we never had our doors unlocked ever again. When either of us traveled alone we always used precautions to avoid harm. And today over 50 years later we are still suspicious, even more so, because we know and understand the dark side of the mind. Our brother even in death, taught us that.
Later Darklings
Thursday, May 2, 2013
Of More information on the Boston Bombers~~~~
Hello Darklings,
Well things are getting to be very interesting on the Boston Marathon Bombings.
3 college students have been arrested, 1 a U.S. citizen and 2 from Kazakhstan, the 2 from Kazakhstan are also being charged with violation of their student visas, and it is possible that one of them has stayed longer than his visa time.
All three are being charged with removal and hiding or destroying evidence of the bombing, all 3 were friends of the surviving bomber. They claim and it could be true that they had no idea about the bombing nor were involved with it.
It was after their friend's picture was posted that they realized their friend was in trouble. And they got a text message from him that allegedly read "LOL." followed by him saying for them to take stuff from his dorm room.
My sister and I are surmising that in a mistaken belief that they might be helping their friend, and maybe not believing that he really was a bomber they removed key evidence from his dorm room, of which a backpack containing emptied fireworks containers with the explosive material removed was found in a landfill.
But the key piece of evidence is the laptop computer is still missing.
Now this is if they were not planners involved in the bombing and just friends trying to protect a friend. All 3 are 19 years old, and as evidence not a single logical brain between them.
How sad, now they all face 5 to 8 years in prison because of mistaken loyalty, instead of allowing the investigators to do their work.
I had a chance to talk to Coralline this morning, she stayed home from school, she appears to have a cold aggravated by allergies. And we talked about these mis-guided college students, she agreed with me that loyalty can put one in trouble and it is best to allow things to go their natural course. If they had done that then they would not be in trouble with their visas.
As of now their hopes of college and professional careers are destroyed unless they can do something to redeem themselves.
Coralline is taking this lesson to heart, but I told her to always be upfront about her beliefs on that matter with any friends so they will know where she stands, she said she will but she doesn't trust her "stupid" brothers (the stupid was her choice of words) She says she "Knows" they will do dumb things and get into trouble. I hope for their sakes it won't be bad trouble.
The ministry of Kazakhstan is helping the U.S. in this investigation to see if there is any ties and Canada is also involved assisting to see if there is also a connection between Boston and a bomber of their own.
It is sad, now more lives are destroyed by mis-guided thoughts, "The evil that men do lives on after them, the good is oft interred with their bones" and this is a prime example.
Must go Darklings, something "thumped" in front of the house.
Later Darklings
Well things are getting to be very interesting on the Boston Marathon Bombings.
3 college students have been arrested, 1 a U.S. citizen and 2 from Kazakhstan, the 2 from Kazakhstan are also being charged with violation of their student visas, and it is possible that one of them has stayed longer than his visa time.
All three are being charged with removal and hiding or destroying evidence of the bombing, all 3 were friends of the surviving bomber. They claim and it could be true that they had no idea about the bombing nor were involved with it.
It was after their friend's picture was posted that they realized their friend was in trouble. And they got a text message from him that allegedly read "LOL." followed by him saying for them to take stuff from his dorm room.
My sister and I are surmising that in a mistaken belief that they might be helping their friend, and maybe not believing that he really was a bomber they removed key evidence from his dorm room, of which a backpack containing emptied fireworks containers with the explosive material removed was found in a landfill.
But the key piece of evidence is the laptop computer is still missing.
Now this is if they were not planners involved in the bombing and just friends trying to protect a friend. All 3 are 19 years old, and as evidence not a single logical brain between them.
How sad, now they all face 5 to 8 years in prison because of mistaken loyalty, instead of allowing the investigators to do their work.
I had a chance to talk to Coralline this morning, she stayed home from school, she appears to have a cold aggravated by allergies. And we talked about these mis-guided college students, she agreed with me that loyalty can put one in trouble and it is best to allow things to go their natural course. If they had done that then they would not be in trouble with their visas.
As of now their hopes of college and professional careers are destroyed unless they can do something to redeem themselves.
Coralline is taking this lesson to heart, but I told her to always be upfront about her beliefs on that matter with any friends so they will know where she stands, she said she will but she doesn't trust her "stupid" brothers (the stupid was her choice of words) She says she "Knows" they will do dumb things and get into trouble. I hope for their sakes it won't be bad trouble.
The ministry of Kazakhstan is helping the U.S. in this investigation to see if there is any ties and Canada is also involved assisting to see if there is also a connection between Boston and a bomber of their own.
It is sad, now more lives are destroyed by mis-guided thoughts, "The evil that men do lives on after them, the good is oft interred with their bones" and this is a prime example.
Must go Darklings, something "thumped" in front of the house.
Later Darklings
Monday, April 15, 2013
Of the tragedy at the Boston Marathon~~~~
Dear Darklings,
This is so heartbreaking.
So Far two people are dead, one an 8 year old child, the injured are now up to 132, with 10 people having limbs amputated, some of them children.
Diane Fienstein is calling this a terrorist act, but whether its home or foreign no word as yet.
My friends are safe, one got ill 1/4 of the way into the run and his friend stopped to help him so they called on their cell phone their family members to come to them, far away from the explosions.
The alleged explosion at the JFK Library was a fire in a maintenance room, not sure if its related or just coincidence.
Poor Louise didn't want to go home but I told her if she didn't her family would worry, and then my sister arrived home all safe, so Louise went home and she will call us when she arrives.
I had to leave the television for a short while, so my mind can take this in.
This is the dark side of life that my mind tries to fathom, the evil that is in one's soul that they can do this without a single thought of who would be harmed, children, families.
And so far no one is claiming responsibility, which I find odd. Rumor has it that they were like pipe bombs, but no facts as yet.
My mind is reeling at this evil. Trying to fathom why someone would do this.
Must go now, my sister is recommending that we order something delivered, but right now I have no appetite.
Later Darklings
This is so heartbreaking.
So Far two people are dead, one an 8 year old child, the injured are now up to 132, with 10 people having limbs amputated, some of them children.
Diane Fienstein is calling this a terrorist act, but whether its home or foreign no word as yet.
My friends are safe, one got ill 1/4 of the way into the run and his friend stopped to help him so they called on their cell phone their family members to come to them, far away from the explosions.
The alleged explosion at the JFK Library was a fire in a maintenance room, not sure if its related or just coincidence.
Poor Louise didn't want to go home but I told her if she didn't her family would worry, and then my sister arrived home all safe, so Louise went home and she will call us when she arrives.
I had to leave the television for a short while, so my mind can take this in.
This is the dark side of life that my mind tries to fathom, the evil that is in one's soul that they can do this without a single thought of who would be harmed, children, families.
And so far no one is claiming responsibility, which I find odd. Rumor has it that they were like pipe bombs, but no facts as yet.
My mind is reeling at this evil. Trying to fathom why someone would do this.
Must go now, my sister is recommending that we order something delivered, but right now I have no appetite.
Later Darklings
Sunday, December 16, 2012
Of Tragedies, Pain, Tears and Friends~~~~
Dear Darklings,
This I fear is going to be a very long post.
As I’ve said it appears that I have lived a romantic life, but I have to admit that I have to work at it. Even with all the dirt and filth, the obscenities, the horrors and insanity that surround me, the crassness and commercialism that well up like unthinking bedbugs, I have to work at having things beautiful, graceful, elegant and romantic even if I am an elder/elderly Goth.
It’s not being in denial, it’s looking past all that and trying to bring beauty even dark beauty into one’s life, one doesn’t have to buy new things to do that either, finds at yard and estate sales, 2nd hand shops, thrift stores, flea markets, with thought and ingenuity it is amazing what one can bring into one’s life and it’s not just things but an outlook and an attitude.
In my childhood I never thought of us as being poor, Dad had a “white collar job” and it paid a decent salary, but we were lower middle income, it was hard to save for a vacation, we rarely took one, any money saved would be for repairs or a sudden medical expense or a special purchase, we made do with things, learning to sew our clothes, buying day old bread, plant cuttings and seeds for flowers or to grow vegetables, making do and finding fun, free fun, purchasing cheap cuts of meat for stews, there were lots of mac and cheese, sometimes with ground round, sometimes with tuna, but we never thought of ourselves as really poor.
Christmas meant we would take the bus and see the stores all in their Christmas finery and seeing Santa, I remember how some of the stores would have these marvelous full human size displays that had sound and motion, each showing a scene that had humor, and us looking to find all the little details in the displays, we each got one toy from Santa and something nice from Mom and Dad and See’s candy from Grandma, for Halloween we made our own costumes and the pumpkins carved for Halloween became pumpkin pies for Thanksgiving.
For our birthdays Mom always baked a cake, Dad would buy ice cream, crepe paper streamers and my sister and I made hand written invitations to give to our school mates, but Mom would always write a little note to the parents inside saying “no presents please, just come and have cake and ice cream” because a lot of our school mates were from working families like ours trying to make ends meet.
Mom always managed to save some money and buy for my sister and I a special party dress, it had to last until we out-grew it and we had to keep it neat and clean. When we’d out grow our party dresses Mother would donate them all nice and neat on hangers to a local charity.
I remember one time I saw a little girl whose folks were really hard up but managed to make do, wearing my old party dress and she looked very happy, I went up to her and said “What a pretty dress, it looks pretty on you” and the little girl smiled and said “My Daddy bought it for me for my birthday” Mother and Dad taught us to always be polite and nice, but because of things that happened in my life I could see how hard it was for some people and simple things like a 2nd hand party dress could make a little girl happy.
One year Mother bought one for me that I didn’t like, it was very pretty and I loved the look of it but it was made of nylon and always scratched me around the sleeves, but I didn’t tell Mom I didn’t care for it, because my best friend Betty had one just like it but in a different color, hers was a pale blue with dark blue flowers and mine was pale pink with dark pink flowers and we were happy that we had similar dresses, so that was enough for me to tolerate the scratchiness.
Betty was a pretty and very happy girl, with blue eyes and blond hair, she was a little shorter than me and her hair was always in curls, my hair was dark, straight and in pig tails and I was taller than her, but I always felt gawky next to her because she moved with such grace. Betty had taken ballet lessons and said that if I took ballet lessons I could become graceful like her.
I remember pleading with Mother and Dad about the lessons but they weren’t sure we could afford them at the time. My sister who was a few years younger wanted to take lessons too but again money was an issue, I told Betty that there wasn’t any money for the lessons but Betty came up with an idea, once a week I would go over to Betty’s house and she’d show me what she learned in her class and taught it to me, even speaking like her ballet teacher. Plies, stretches, the foot positions, pirouettes, how to hold my arms and hands and we’d practice and dance, we must have worn out those old records, even today I think how patient Betty’s Mom must have been with our personal ballet lessons.
We were both 8 years old when she started teaching me, and we became best friends, sharing secrets, talking about books and boys and teachers and things, walking to school together, playing together, doing homework together, and after a while I noticed that I moved more gracefully, even my Grandma remarked on it.
Betty was just a month older than me, her birthday came in the early part of February and mine in the latter part of March.
I remember when my Grandfather died, I was sad that he was gone, however I always felt that in some way he was always around.
In Betty’s case that was my first dark tragedy and it marked me for the rest of my life. It was her 10th birthday, it was a very unseasonably cold day, Betty’s Dad set up some electric space heaters that had thick coils in them, to help warm up the house, their floor heater they had was working over time but the house never seemed warm enough, I remember a few days before the party Betty’s Dad talking to my Dad saying that they are going to have to insulate their house to make it warm but they’d have to take out a loan. Dad said that we were going to have to do the same thing.
I remember the bars over the coils of those space heaters were wide apart, they made me feel uneasy and I made sure I stayed away from them. Betty’s Dad had borrowed them from someone for the party, to help warm the house.
I remember saying to Betty “You’re 10 now but I’ll catch up to you next month at my Birthday party” Betty said to me “We’ll be 10 together” and hugged me. I remember Betty got a birthday present from her parents, it was a gold heart on a chain with her first name engraved on it, ‘Elizabeth’ on the front and on the back the date of her birth. Betty said to me that I was going to have a surprise on my birthday but she couldn’t tell me. I remember begging her to tell me but she said she promised my Mother she wouldn’t. “Some secrets have to be very special” she said. To this day I remember her saying that to me.
Betty’s Mother had a couple of ladies over to help out with the party, they were setting up the chairs so we could have the cake and ice cream, even if it was very cold outside we always wanted ice cream, one of the other ladies had us do party games, like “pin the tale on the donkey”, or “telegraph”, for some reason we were doing “blind man’s bluff”, the whole idea was to have the blindfolded person in the center and then each of us would quickly run up to that person touch them on the shoulder or arm and then dart away, but if the blindfolded person caught you then you were next.
I remember there were about 10 children there; because it was so cold some of the others couldn’t come to the party but for indoors it was enough people, we’d be moving around quickly darting in and out while playing this game. The boy who was blind folded got really close to Betty, she backed up as far as she could, so he caught another boy and just as they were about to put the blind fold on the other child Betty screamed.
She had backed into one of the electric heaters and she was wearing that pretty nylon dress in pale blue since she was the birthday girl, her dress caught on fire, the next thing we knew she was a pillar of flame, screaming and running, the children started to scream and run too, but I remember standing there frozen, my best friend was on fire and I was frozen I couldn’t move even to help her, everything seemed to be in slow motion.
Just then Betty’s Dad came running from the other room, threw Betty on the floor and tried to smother the flames with his coat, it was hard, the nylon kept burning and burning, it melted onto her skin making her skin bubble up and turn black.
One of the ladies gathered the children and put us into a bedroom away from what was happening, Betty’s mother was screaming, I remember another lady grabbing me by the arm saying “No! Don’t look!” but I did. Betty looked like a burnt match, I can’t describe how horrible it was.
I found myself in the bedroom with the other children, a lady was putting our coats on, we were all crying I kept running to the bedroom door crying for Betty and the lady roughly grabbed me time and again, later Mom discovered the bruises on my arm, I told her days later how the lady would grab me to keep me in the bedroom but Mom said the lady did the right thing.
Someone had called our parents, I knew my Mother couldn’t come and get me because my sister was sick with a cold and I had been brought by another parent.
After what seemed like a long time I heard my Uncle Mannie’s voice, he was in his work clothes, I ran to him and he picked me up in one swoop, I remember he smelled of wood because he was a carpenter, he came in his work truck, and left it running so it would be warm and took me home, I saw fire trucks and an ambulance, I could hear children and women crying.
We got to my parent’s house and Uncle Mannie carried me inside, I cried all the way home, my Grandmother was there and it appeared that someone had called my Mother and told her what had happened. I was screaming and crying, just hysterical from the fear and horror that I saw, my Mother undressed me and put me to bed but I wouldn’t let go of her and kept telling her what had happened I remember screaming that it would happen to me.
Dad came home just as the doctor arrived, and between my Mother, Grandmother and Dad they held me down as the Doctor gave me an injection to put me to sleep, the last thing I remember was screaming “I’ll never have another Best Friend again!!!”
I woke up two days later and felt numb, my sister was sitting in the little blue rocking chair next to my bed and had been reading a child’s picture book, she looked up at me with a serious face and said “Betty’s dead.”
All I could do was gather the thick warm comforter around me, I couldn’t talk. My sister, who was feeling better from her cold, told me how my parents, Granny and Uncle Mannie took care of me, and how the Doctor would come by in the evening to check on me.
Uncle Mannie was a widower and sometimes stayed with Grandma when his work brought him close to our town. He never married again and would send extra money to Grandma if she needed it. My sister and I loved him because he’d always would fix our dolls or repaired our doll house when our younger brother would break them (that was another reason we always plotted his demise). He even made furniture for our doll house and for us to use as well. I still have my little red chair that he made for me.
But Betty was gone, nothing could bring her back, for a week I didn’t go to school, my older brother (I’ll talk about him later, that was another tragedy) would bring my home work assignments to me. I wasn’t the only one out of school the other children who were at the party, stayed home as well, one of them, a little girl never did go back.
I hardly got out to bed, I was so afraid of leaving my room, Mom and Dad didn’t force me. My sister would come into my room to play card games or we’d do puzzles she’d talk but I barely spoke. One day she told me that Mom took my pink nylon party dress, cut it up and threw it away, my sister told me that Mom and Dad had heard more about what had happened, the space heaters were not safe because of how they were made and Betty’s nylon dress was highly flammable, of course my sister had a hard time saying the world ‘flammable’, she pronounced it ‘flame able’. Finally several days later Mom talked to me privately in my room.
She talked to me for a long time about Death and how horrible it can be and what I saw is something I’d never forget, and that I’ll always be sad whenever I’d think of Betty, but she told me that Betty wouldn’t want me to be sad, while I was sick in bed, they had Betty’s funeral and Mom and Dad went to it. Betty’s parents came up to them and said that they wanted to pay for my ballet lessons for a year, it was something Betty had pleaded with them and since Betty’s Dad made more money he agreed to it.
That was the Birthday surprise that Mom was going to tell me, and one other thing, Mom had bought a heart pendant on a chair exactly like Betty’s only my name was engraved on the front with my birthday on the back, that day Mom gave it to me, instead of my birthday. Then Mom asked me “What do you think Betty would want you to do?” and I knew, I was to get out of bed, go back to school, take my ballet lessons and do my best in everything.
Mom said to me that some day I’ll have another Best Friend, but I told her “No I won’t, it hurts to have a best friend.” And for years I never did, I’d have friends but I always kept a certain emotional distance.
Betty’s parents some months later moved away, but they did pay for a full year of ballet lessons from Miss Rose Ellison’s Ballet School, I never did dance in any of the recitals we couldn’t afford the cost of the costumes, but it went much longer than a year, I took lessons until I went to college.
When I was little I saved bottles and getting a nickel for each bottle and each week after that first year I’d pay Miss Ellison, what I didn’t know is that the lessons cost far more than my bottle money, but Miss Ellison let me stay, as I got older I’d baby sit and would pay for the lessons with my baby-sitting money. Some years later after Miss Ellison had retired she told me that when I was practicing and dancing in the classes I’d seem happy and she was right I was happy because sometimes I thought I was dancing with Betty.
But I never did have a 10th birthday party, not with my school mates, as a matter of fact I never had a children’s party ever again, Mom and Dad would do a small party with some family members but never a children’s party, my sister also told our parents she didn’t want one either, Betty’s death had affected her too. But for our brother’s birthdays Dad would take them and a couple of their friends to either a baseball or football game. In the long run, emotionally it was much easier.
But did I ever have another best friend ever again? Not for years, I was afraid to until some years later, Garvin was sweet and kind and gay, we worked for the same company, he adored my Mother, would tease my sister when she was in town, helped plan my brother’s wedding, and we became friends, we’d explore the night life together, go to Jazz Clubs and fledgling Goth Clubs although I wasn’t really into heavy metal music. We’d gossip, talk about the Ann Rice books, go shopping, share secrets, car pooled, we found my vintage car that I'd restore, he’d design clothing for me and we’d love to either shop for or sew up vintage clothing. One year we made for him a “Zoot Suit”, long before the movie “The Mask” came out.
He volunteered at the local community Theatre and we’d would design lighting for plays, we became night owls which worked with our work schedules. Eventually we worked part time for a Community theatre company that specialized in murder mysteries, horror plays, Ghostly Drama’s, some Grand Gulnoild Dracula was always big, and occasionally a comedy like “Bell, Book and Candle” or “Topper” or “Blithe Spirit”, he knew a magician who’d design some special effects for them, we'd receive a stipend for it, that money helped to restore my vintage car. The little theatre developed a cult following for nearly 8 years, but then the building that was used was sold, the rent went up and it went out of business, but I could see that Garvin was in trouble before that.
We were doing “Dracula, the Musical?” (don’t ask but it’s true), working lights and special effects the new owners of the building said that we had to be out of it by November so it was our last production and it ran for 8 weeks, Thursday through Saturday evenings only, but Garvin looked like hell.
One evening just before closing night as we were re-setting the “gels” he told me he was dying, he had AIDS and nothing was working. I had wondered why he was being so careful around me at times. I knew of AIDS I had read all about it, he just sat there staring at the empty stage with the lights set, I could see that light was going out of his eyes, he’d given up. I walked over to him bent down, kissed his cheek and said “I Love you” very softly in his ear, the look he gave me is one I cannot describe except that it was a sort of joy and it energized him to finish the run, to direct the packing of all the lighting equipment so it could be either used someplace else or sold.
Then he sold or gave away all his things, put the money into a fund, checked himself into a hospice that cared for those dying of AIDS, he pleaded with me to not come and see him, or call him but I wrote to him every day and he would write a short note to me because now he was getting weak and tired. In the end he dictated a long letter to me; he was too weak to write, but it was a very special letter. He called me his Special Very Best and Very True Friend and I had through my letters given him the courage to make the transition and he had no fear of the end.
I had lost one friend and cut myself off of being close to anyone except for family and eventually Doyle, and then I had taken the courage to have a friend again risking the fact that I would lose him. I felt I had come full circle and had been healed, but in going around in that circle I discovered the darkness, and worked to find the beauty within it.
There were other tragedies in my life and with those I worked even harder to see beauty, I'll 'talk' about those another time.
Later Darklings
Sunday, March 25, 2012
Another Death Day~~~~
Well my Darklings,
I've just celebrated another "Death Day"----the "muggles" (I love that word) prefer to call it "Birthday" but I like to call it "Death Day".
Why? Because it's one more year closer to dying---whenever that will be.
The normal people don't realize is that with each so-called "Birthday" you really are celebrating having lived one more year---you've survived not getting killed by idiot drivers, stupidity, drugs, drink,disease, war, famine or any other means of dying.
So because you have survived another year of living from the day of your birth that is suppose to be reason to celebrate.
It wasn't until I had reached the 50th year of survival, when my brother, his wife, my sister brought out a cake done in chocolate with red raspberry filling and frosted with black frosting with a small grim reaper and a gravestone candle with the numbers 50 and the words "over the hill" and one small black candle lit.
Now did he sing "Happy Birthday" no they did the funeral durge by saying "Dum, dum, de dum, de de de de de di di dum" Frankly Darklings I loved the morbid, gallows humor, black napkins, black paper plates, red drinking glasses and red plastic cutlery.
I saved those cake toppings, plus one each of the napkin, plate drinking glass and cutlery and I put them into a shadow box made with a very old ornate picture frame, I added dried dark red roses to it from the bouquet that they gave me, and a picture of me on that day. It's my "Memento Mori" and each year I look at it when I celebrate my "Death Day".
When it will come I don't know, but I told my sister that my funeral should be an occasion of celebration, drinking,lots of food, music, dancing an old fashioned wake designed to "Wake the Dead".
I also find it ironic that my "death day" happens to be close to when the Earth is waking from it's "Winter Death" to come to life, bloom and grow. Which if one really thinks about it gives Easter it's real meaning.
Sorry if this sounds too Morbid my Darklings, but Death as Life shouldn't be.
Later my Darklings
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