Wednesday, October 22, 2008
Monday, October 20, 2008
A Roast for My Big Brother Greg
Gregory Gerard was born into a still, pristine child-free household on the 22nd of October 1952. This "First Born" child of proud parents George and Joan, was photographed with paparazzi frenzy. The darling, dimpled cherub's first two years of existence were recorded in baby books with hundreds if not thousands of photographs indexed into heavy volumes.
Greggie on a pony.
Greggie with his Sammy Dog.
Lil Greg on Santa's knee!
"Just how adorable it this!" cried his parents."OH, and so bright!" others exclaimed in hopes that they too would be able to hold the bright,shiny new boy.
I did not mind being born as his younger sister, coming in second. Really. There is absolutely nothing wrong with hand-me-down diapers.I am sure my parents' camera had become misplaced or perhaps broken by December of 1954.
Greg wasn't quite willing to leave the comforts of his crib at the time of my birth. Playpens were much roomier anyway. Mom said it always gave me the opportunity to explore. Of course I can't blame my brother for my confused identity. Boy clothes were fine. A boy's bike? Sure. Except that middle bar was sometimes an ouchy.
No really, wearing my brother's football pads, helmet and jersey for a Halloween costume. Cool.
"No mam. I'm NOT Bobby."
The pristine household? Greg managed to clutter it up with toys and rocks and other such boy messes but hey, he shared. He shared boogers,chicken pox and the gum he stored under the desk.He even let me rub his back if I watched his choice of TV fare.
Yep. I was the number two of our household. But you know what? I wouldn't change it for the world because there is nothing better than having a great older brother! Love you Greg and happy birthday!
Greggie on a pony.
Greggie with his Sammy Dog.
Lil Greg on Santa's knee!
"Just how adorable it this!" cried his parents."OH, and so bright!" others exclaimed in hopes that they too would be able to hold the bright,shiny new boy.
I did not mind being born as his younger sister, coming in second. Really. There is absolutely nothing wrong with hand-me-down diapers.I am sure my parents' camera had become misplaced or perhaps broken by December of 1954.
Greg wasn't quite willing to leave the comforts of his crib at the time of my birth. Playpens were much roomier anyway. Mom said it always gave me the opportunity to explore. Of course I can't blame my brother for my confused identity. Boy clothes were fine. A boy's bike? Sure. Except that middle bar was sometimes an ouchy.
No really, wearing my brother's football pads, helmet and jersey for a Halloween costume. Cool.
"No mam. I'm NOT Bobby."
The pristine household? Greg managed to clutter it up with toys and rocks and other such boy messes but hey, he shared. He shared boogers,chicken pox and the gum he stored under the desk.He even let me rub his back if I watched his choice of TV fare.
Yep. I was the number two of our household. But you know what? I wouldn't change it for the world because there is nothing better than having a great older brother! Love you Greg and happy birthday!
Pondering the Me Question
My guess is I started wondering who I was at the age of seven. I was cozy in my family nest but felt outside stirrings. Neighborhood. School. Church. I was incubated in midwestern Iowa. German influenced since 1886 when my great grandparents landed on New York's coast that April.
Rules and regulation.
Somewhat mellowed with three American generations, it is still the moral fiber that makes me who I am. I would never take something that was not mine. I was raised knowing I represented not just myself but my family. I represented my Church. I represented my Town. These were the teachings.Though I find pride in my heart for it even to this day, I find rebellion and the want for change. I image it is the natural progression in life.
Rules and regulation.
Somewhat mellowed with three American generations, it is still the moral fiber that makes me who I am. I would never take something that was not mine. I was raised knowing I represented not just myself but my family. I represented my Church. I represented my Town. These were the teachings.Though I find pride in my heart for it even to this day, I find rebellion and the want for change. I image it is the natural progression in life.
Friday, October 17, 2008
The 291st day of 2008
Autumn's leaves, plucked by cool breezy gusts,
dip and swirl to summer's last song
and a fat yellowed moon casts silvery shadows
from the edge of the earth so eerily long.
Spiders and mice and low flying bats
make a search for warmth, comfort and food.
Owls with haunting nocturnal voices
announce the strange and ghostly mood.
I welcome the season of hallowed harvests
of apples, corn and pumpkined vine.
Cheers to this colorful Autumn Season
made of patches in earthtone design.
S.G.Dunn
Monday, October 6, 2008
George F. Gager
Today I rewired a lamp. The last person to rewire it was my dad. He died April 2 of 1999. I thought of him as I disconnected wires, reconnected wires. It brought us back together. Father and daughter. I inherited the knack of being handy from him. He barely taught me such things. Maybe by accident I stood too close to him the day he repaired a flat tire or filed down a sticking door. Maybe I just simply wanted to hang out with my dad and happened to learned something. I don't know. I do know he has some responsibility in who I am today. For that, I am thankful. Love you Dad!
The Sixth Day of the Tenth Month
A warm dry sixth day of October. Threats of a water restriction rumble under clear blue skies while healthy moles frolic under crusty baked Tennessee yards. Even so I do love Autumn. Not death in the year's cycle but a true beginning to one! A time for nature's decay to become the nutrients for spring's growth. Seeds nestle down in warm compost with dreams for April. The start to our earth's gestation. A jubilant time of year!
Wednesday, October 1, 2008
The Night Marchers of La Perouse Bay HI
On our recent visit to Maui, Charlie and I never thought we would walk into something so foreboding yet alluring.
We decided to see how far we could go driving south on highway 31. Our tourist map showed a dotted line indicating some kind of continuation after the one lane road's terminus. We parked our rented convertible by a stone marker informing us this 'end of the line' was called La Perouse Bay. It seems La Perouse was the first French explorer and Naval Officer to visit Hawaii. He came ashore at this point in 1788 shortly after Maui's volcano Haleakala's last eruption. (This volcano is still considered active) La Preouse's story is fascinating. He is one of history's figures who 's death has never been verified. No body. No date. No ship. We do know his two ships sank in a storm south of the Soloman Islands in that year of 1788.
Getting back to 2008.... Maui's southwestern edge is an eerie gigantic field of black lava rock still seemingly turbulent .You can almost see the thrust and steam, molten red rivers masticating all flora, fauna and human that was most unlucky to be in it's path! We walked gingerly through this land of past carnage staying on a path so faint it came down to guess work. Looking back up toward Haleakala you could recognize the flow patterns, it's ebbs and tides, the spines of valley ridges now cloaked heavy with the dark igneous rock.
You will find that the beach falls away quickly into a dark gnarled entanglement of trees, living and dead. You hear the deafening crash of the Pacific's assault onto land but you no longer see the shoreline. This is not the sunny skies of vacationing Maui. At this point you question if you should go on.
We crossed paths with two women . They seemed relieved to see us but scurried passed with no talk of "oh, where are you staying...have you tried the Ani?" Charlie and I decided to go ahead.
It was sudden! a dark form going at great speed through the gnarled trees .
"Did you see it?"
"What was it?"
"I...I don't know!"
I tried to settle my mind. I didn't know whether to hide from this thing or seek it out. We kept going. A screeching bird lit above us. The crashing waves out to our right kept up it's timeless tide. There it was .
"Charles!' I whispered"I think it's a black goat!"
On further study through the thinning light I could see it was a mountain goat with great horns like the Rockies Mountain Goats. There seemed to be a herd of them. We walked passed keeping our eyes forward but our senses behind. It was at this time we saw the ruins. It seemed to be more than a building. Like a whole city of piled rocks. I lifted one of the ancient rocks that had obviously fallen, back in it's place. I stepped inside the broken down stone walled area.
I don't think you should do that Sue!"Charles warned.
I agreed and stepped out of it. I did not want to anger anyone because I knew whomever I could anger was there! We felt the presence of ages....of times we had no knowledge. Like a shadow of passed time hovering about us, it seemed to want us to leave. We did.
That experience stayed with us and we decided to research the area when we got home. I found there are Huaka'i po, Night Marchers, in the area of Ahihi-kinau Natural area perserve that roam along the hardened lava landscape in search of mischief. Though I read in my research "GhostTours"are available on the island, no one has ever offered to take people through the unmarked trails of Ahihi-kinau. And black mountain goats? Islanders never speak of them.
We decided to see how far we could go driving south on highway 31. Our tourist map showed a dotted line indicating some kind of continuation after the one lane road's terminus. We parked our rented convertible by a stone marker informing us this 'end of the line' was called La Perouse Bay. It seems La Perouse was the first French explorer and Naval Officer to visit Hawaii. He came ashore at this point in 1788 shortly after Maui's volcano Haleakala's last eruption. (This volcano is still considered active) La Preouse's story is fascinating. He is one of history's figures who 's death has never been verified. No body. No date. No ship. We do know his two ships sank in a storm south of the Soloman Islands in that year of 1788.
Getting back to 2008.... Maui's southwestern edge is an eerie gigantic field of black lava rock still seemingly turbulent .You can almost see the thrust and steam, molten red rivers masticating all flora, fauna and human that was most unlucky to be in it's path! We walked gingerly through this land of past carnage staying on a path so faint it came down to guess work. Looking back up toward Haleakala you could recognize the flow patterns, it's ebbs and tides, the spines of valley ridges now cloaked heavy with the dark igneous rock.
You will find that the beach falls away quickly into a dark gnarled entanglement of trees, living and dead. You hear the deafening crash of the Pacific's assault onto land but you no longer see the shoreline. This is not the sunny skies of vacationing Maui. At this point you question if you should go on.
We crossed paths with two women . They seemed relieved to see us but scurried passed with no talk of "oh, where are you staying...have you tried the Ani?" Charlie and I decided to go ahead.
It was sudden! a dark form going at great speed through the gnarled trees .
"Did you see it?"
"What was it?"
"I...I don't know!"
I tried to settle my mind. I didn't know whether to hide from this thing or seek it out. We kept going. A screeching bird lit above us. The crashing waves out to our right kept up it's timeless tide. There it was .
"Charles!' I whispered"I think it's a black goat!"
On further study through the thinning light I could see it was a mountain goat with great horns like the Rockies Mountain Goats. There seemed to be a herd of them. We walked passed keeping our eyes forward but our senses behind. It was at this time we saw the ruins. It seemed to be more than a building. Like a whole city of piled rocks. I lifted one of the ancient rocks that had obviously fallen, back in it's place. I stepped inside the broken down stone walled area.
I don't think you should do that Sue!"Charles warned.
I agreed and stepped out of it. I did not want to anger anyone because I knew whomever I could anger was there! We felt the presence of ages....of times we had no knowledge. Like a shadow of passed time hovering about us, it seemed to want us to leave. We did.
That experience stayed with us and we decided to research the area when we got home. I found there are Huaka'i po, Night Marchers, in the area of Ahihi-kinau Natural area perserve that roam along the hardened lava landscape in search of mischief. Though I read in my research "GhostTours"are available on the island, no one has ever offered to take people through the unmarked trails of Ahihi-kinau. And black mountain goats? Islanders never speak of them.
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