Tuesday, September 23, 2008

Rarely Seen

I've always been a fan of nooks and crannies (aside - For this reason alone, I love Thomas English Muffin's new marketing campaign). I think this affinity stems from watching Goonies thousands of times and it being my favorite movie for the last 26 years. Who wouldn't love exploring caves and finding cool natural water slides and pirate treasure?!?!

Anyway, this love of things out-of-the-way and rarely seen led to find this odd sight tucked away behind the Tredegar Civil War museum.
At first glance, I thought the tree was holding the old train track up. I knew I had to take a closer look. After walking around the outbuildings on the hill, I came to the back and this was the view:

So, the track wasn't totally embedded into the tree, but they are clearly inseparable now. I often wonder what old trees have seen during their lifetime. While this one apparently wasn't here when these tracks carried all the ironworks for the Confederacy from the factory on site to the rest of the South or the burning of the city upon evacuation, I'm sure it's seen much.

(One last footnote: The oxidized Copper roof topper in the background was designed by Latrobe and used to sit on top of the prison just up the hill from this location.)

Monday, September 15, 2008

Rediscovered Original Poetry (II)

A very jerky iambic pentameter. Hey... Shakespeare might not be the easiest to read, but he sure has stood the test of time.

Restlessness

I restrain myself from viewing the clock
menaced by the hour its face might reveal
while MY face waits for sleep to close these eyes
and the night all my worries to conceal.

My stomach churns. I feel the impression
that the Lord waits on me to lead and bless.
Why bekon me? When will the way appear?
Tonight I embody but restlessness.

~Written by: Me
January 2002 during solo birthday trip to VA Beach (intentionally)

(Insert disclaimer about copyrights, etc. Just please don't cut and paste somewhere else without permission)

Sunday, September 14, 2008

Rediscovered Original Poetry (I)

In the move, I found a couple notebooks that have notes and thoughts from various times over the last 10 years. I thought I'd share a few of my poems. This one is dedicated to Cheryl and writer's block - but.... should have some symbolic meaning for everyone else :-) (bonus points to anyone who can find the one line that is off on the rhythm).

The Novel

Rhythmically the typewriter
lays the letters on a page.
While listening to the keystrokes,
it's the story I try to gauge.

Each letter's as a moment...
and pages like the days.
It's how I choose to shape them
that determines the next phase.

The plot comes in increment
but, in the end, rests on me.
I strive to remain mindful,
a novel someday will be.

~Author - Me -
Written on July 9, 2005 while in Canaan Valley, WV vacationing with friends

(Insert disclaimer about copyrights, etc. Just please don't cut and paste somewhere else without permission)

Friday, September 12, 2008

Why...?

...are there still hoards of mosquitos in Richmond?

I still have to drench myself with OFF to read outside. Please, can we have a good frost?

Wednesday, September 10, 2008

(Edited from my 2006 Version)

"There's another plane lost from radar. They scrambled jets from Andrews. Get out. Get out. Get out".

Those were the words of a Capitol Hill policeman who opened our office door in one of the U.S. House of Representatives office buildings next to the iconic dome of the Capitol building. Our staff had been glued to the TV for the morning watching footage from NY and catching word about the Pentagon. Some of the Capitol Hill offices were closing and leaving, but until those words were spoken, we were still in a "wait and see" mindset. I picked up the phone to call Shelly, my roommate at the time and my carpool, as she worked on the Senate side. I wanted to let her know we were leaving, and I was riding with Geoff, my coworker, who lived close to us in south Arlington. But, the phone lines were already down. I couldn't reach her.

Luckily, I had already called my family, still living in New Mexico. I was able to get through to them to let them know I was ok and we were evacuating, and that I would call again when I could. The next few minutes were a hushed and adrenaline-filled blur as Geoff and I went down the marbled stairs to the parking garage. I remember looking out of the window of Geoff's Pontiac at the Capitol Policemen directing traffic and onlookers as we drove out and down the street away from the Capitol. I think it was the first time in my life I felt the real gravity of someone staying behind in a dangerous situation in order to help me get to safety. For the next two hours or so, we tried to drive the 3 miles to get home, unable to reach Geoff's wife on my cell phone because the lines were all still jammed.

What continues to impress me most about that day 7 years ago is how transparent a person's true character is in a time of crisis. Stories of heroism and generosity abound surrounding 9/11. There are two closest to my heart....

1.) As stated above, I couldn't reach Shelly by phone. We had driven in to work together that morning. We both had a parking spot on our respective sides of Capitol Hill and we alternated weeks of who drove. 9/11/01 fell on Shelly's week to drive. Her car was on the Senate side. I evacuated from the House side. I didn't find out the remainder of the story until later in the day, back at the townhouse the four of us rented. Even through the horrendous traffic, I made it home before Shelly did. Shelly was the last of the four of us to get home. I will never forget the look on her face when she walked through the front door and saw me on the couch or the collective emotional breakdown I felt in our living room.

You see... in those moments of crisis, Shelly's thoughts turned to me. She left her Senate office building and ran across Capitol Hill (not a small distance) to my building in an attempt to get me so we could leave together. She could have just gotten in her car and left, and hoped I figured out a way to get home. But, that's not who she is. She postponed her own exodus to try to find me and take me with her. When she got to my building, she was told it was closed. She couldn't go in. I can only imagine the feelings she must have had at that moment. She turned back towards the Senate side, and eventually got to her car, endured the traffic, and arrived at home: all the while, feeling a deep anxiety and uncertainty over my safety.

Shelly is now married and approaching her 5th anniversary. She has two precious little girls, Ellie and Annie. It's been a long long time since we've really talked about that day, it is hard to do. But tomorrow, we're going together to the overlook on Arlington Ridge Rd. that we stood at to see the Pentagon. I hope someday, when Ellie and Annie are older, they understand what a hero their Mom was on 9/11. She wasn't on CNN. She's not engraved in stone on a memorial. But, she was the perfect example of sacrifice, duty and concern for others. That's who she is. There may not be occasion to exemplify it every day. But, on the day it most mattered, it was the core of her character that was exposed.

2.) I still can't even think, type or talk about United Flight 93 without my throat tightening and my eyes filling with tears. National heroism to take a stand? Sure. But, I've never viewed it like that. It was their heroism that saved ME that day. It was the hardest part about going back to work the next day with a brave face. It changed my world view. I still grapple sometimes with the feeling of indebtedness and a need to live worthy of their sacrifice. So many times over the past years, I've wanted to write to the widows and mothers of Jeremy Glick, Todd Beamer and Mark Bingham. But, I don't even know where to begin. There aren't words to match my feelings. I just hope they know how completely and wholly grateful I am and that they will never be forgotten.

I do hope you find a couple quiet moments today to remember those who were lost on that day, those who were heroes on that day, and all of the goodness you have inside of you, no matter how often you have the chance to let it be seen by others.

Monday, September 8, 2008

Bad Manners

Despite calling three different animal shelters, two SPCAs, two cat rescue organizations and putting up neon FOUND posters, the kitten who followed me home two weeks ago is still here.


He's gone through a host of name changes. I've finally settled on Rhett Butler, because he's a southern gentleman. He really is a very sweet cat. Marilyn could learn a lot from him, actually. Rhett is vocal, cuddly, playful and passive all rolled into one. I love that he gives kisses like people - he presses his little lips on my cheek.

However, he does have a few strange habits, as evidenced below.




Sunday, September 7, 2008

Brick Breaker - Correct me if I'm wrong

So, since having getting a blackberry about a year ago, I've been sporadically compelled to keep highering my brickbreaker score. I've never submitted my "high score" to whatever entity keeps that data, but enjoy a good game every now and then (particularly when I can tell my life count is high enough to push past some of the more tricky levels). I will also concede that, in knowing the game like I do, if I'm not happy with my score by any particular level, I will end the game, knowing it's not going to bear fruit.

This weekend, I decided to try to submit my score - just out of curiousity - to see how I'm measuring up against the addictive crackberry faithful. I could be reading this wrong, but it apprears to me that only 3 other people have posted attaining levels higher than me. My top score is 17,000 on level 29. Others scores are much higher (because they submit each?), but only 3 others have a level 29 or higher listed.

I wish I could find a link to the official score keeper. Anyone have insights before my pride gets the best of me?