Friday, May 31, 2013

When the Story Gets Lost in Time- Part 2

Yes, well, Walter and me.
 Don't think I ever officially met Walter.

My encounter with Walter was unexpected 
and very brief.

I will tell it the best possible way 
with time edits and embellishments.

My Dad always talked about Walter
 like he was a very old man.

Somehow I thought the stories about him
 were from when my Dad grew up
in the same farm home where we lived.

Walter's house was on the back side of the
 60 acre plot of ground next to the house and barn.

One summer day I took a bike ride
"around the block"
which was a 4 mile ride
around the square.

I dumped my bike in a spot of the woods
 where somehow it had been mistaken as a neighborhood
 dumping site. Car pieces, old appliance pieces, sacks of trash.

This past month there were just  dandelion blooms.

I remember creeping up to the house-
it looked quite unkempt even 45 years ago.
Pulled something to the window to stand on to raise myself for a peek.
Pulled back the bush growing close to the foundation to slip by.
 Bridal wreath spirea is painted in my mind's eye.

And peered into the deserted and abandoned house.

With a bowl of strawberries sitting on the kitchen counter by the sink.

Well, isn't that odd?

 On the other side of the room was a sofa- like piece of furniture
 and I in
 "a hands to the sides, scrunched up face, nose to the glass"-

Saw something
Move and Sit Up and Look at Me.
Lock Eyes
 and Stand Up.

And my heart stopped.

I think my scream rattled the gates of heaven.
It may have blown a hole in the roof of the house.

I never looked back to see the side door open.

Or saw him when he rounded the corner of the house.

I left the bike.

And ran full- wind flying across the uneven land of
 laid- over soil in big clumpy furrow rows.
Dirt in Spring mode- awaiting planting.

One giant sprint across the length
 of the 60 Acres into the back farm house door.

Sometime later that day, I casually asked my mom
 if she could take the car around the block to get my bike.

I nonchantlantly asked a question about who lived in the house....

and mom knew a few details
 about a man named Walter.

That somehow had ceased to live in my mind.
That I had pieced the tidbits of stories together- all wrong.

And my story did eventually come out at the dinner table.

Especially after my sudden curiosity and questions- about Walter.

And in a head- throwing- back laugh I can hear my dad's roar-

 at an oldest daughter who got it all mixed up.

But, so loved THE STORY- she would risk the unknown.

And somehow in the middle of it all-

 knew that if she needed them-

she had angel wings and could fly.

Thursday, May 30, 2013

When the Story Gets Lost in Time- Part 1

My trip back home leads me to think about
 the story of Walter Hilgermann.
 As best as I can.
 Mom and Dad are gone-
sure need them to help with the details.

Mom had given me a stack of postcards
 that she had got when the estate sale
 happened for the Hilgermann place.
  Not sure what year that was.

Tried finding something about Walter's death
and just what happened to the family.
  Don't know any of the connections-
Maybe my brother knows who owns the farm.

 My niece just bought this lovely little house
 on the Adam's County Line Road.

We drove over to see their new house.
And then I saw their neighbor's house.

 The gauze flapping in the wind house.
The house left over from a Halloween Ghost House.

And this is Walter's house:

Not sure why the gauze- like material had been wrapped around the house.
 Maybe to keep out birds and animals.

But that was awhile ago.
It is a deserted and lonely house.

Where no more stories get added to the tales told.

With bushes gone
 and farmed right up to the foundation on all sides.

I think Walter was "an old bachelor".

Never married.

 No lists of genealogy to track and restore.

A story lost in time.

Next post-

Walter and me.

Monday, May 27, 2013

When the Enemy Comes to your House

The 17 Year Cicada- Brood Two

 Well, the enemy by the thousands.
 In your yard. Swarming.  Loud.
Brown shells crunching.
Yes, right here.

I heard they were coming.
 I saw the first signs.
 I moped around for about a week.

I was losing time in the yard clean up fight.

And I am BIGGER than they are!

So armed with a broom for swatting, shoes and gloves,
I made my first attack.

And got dive bombed.
In the past four days I trimmed,
 and pulled weeds, 
and dumped piles of brown shells
 into the yard waste containers,

And the counter attack.

They flew into my hair, up my pants leg.
and down my shirt front.

And the low humming in the distant background 
and the high pitched screeching nearby,
all echoes their short-lived and desperate
hope of finding a mate.

So the ones lying dead on the ground- 
is it ecstasy and mission accomplished?
or death by broken heart for not finding a soul mate?

Well, I may not know the full unfolding
 of this seventeen year story...
but what I found in my yard this weekend?


I will probably  be here-
long after their fleeting foray 
into my yard.

I might even let them think they gained 
enemy ground- for a bit.

Cathedral Day

A bit of time away for worship in one of our favorite spots in DC.
The music, the setting, the gardens.
National Cathedral.

A glorious sunny and cool Sunday morning.

The lovely windows really are visual prayer.

Beautiful Trinity banners

The Cathedral from the gardens

The statue of George Washington gets some additional coloration
 due to the way the light is hitting the stained glass window
Roses in full bloom

Thursday, May 23, 2013

When an Acquaintance Becomes a Friend

A Bit of Time in May
 together with a Friend-
with the scent of peonies
Sybil and Connie- trying to capture a moment together
Sybil MacBeth- in town near DC and grabbed her off the Metro
A Pretty Day in May
and Lunch here at the house
 with my friend Sybil
Sybil MacBeth- author of Praying in Golor
( a bit blurry- this photo is  taken from her website)

I met Sybil when she came to our church
to lead a Praying in Color Workshop---
 Think that was about 3 years ago.

We have since kept in touch,
encouraged each other in prayer resources,
 told stories,
been able to meet now and then for a catch up
and check in time.

Not sure how it happens
that the Lord blesses-
 and the gift of an
  moves to a friendship.

Different paths
Different journeys

But something...

that ties the heart.

For that I am thankful.

Wednesday, May 22, 2013

When Days Are Challenged to See the Beauty

A heavy heart seeing the devastation of the Oklahoma tornadoes.
Nothing makes sense in such a loss. 
There is no way to allow for such a sudden traumatic change.

Saturday, May 18, 2013

Lucketts- Loved it and Left It

An overcast day in Lucketts, Virginia today
 did not stop the enthusiastic crowds that gathered early
 and on a mission. 

The Luckett's Spring Market.
Thought that tonite I would share with you
 some of the favorite things I saw-- 
and left right where they were....
  with maybe just a piece of my heart.

OLD Book Press
Ah!!!!!   Pink Drawers
Old Wood and great patina

Antique tin pieces reinvented into a variety of things
Amazing arched doors

Wood pieces for various uses

Olive Bucket and Watering Can

Doors with Details-
just build me something with these doors!

Miss Mustard Seed- Marian-
 busy and working hard in her booth

The vendors will still be there on Sunday, May 19, 2013. 
 Worth the drive to Lucketts- 15 North of Leesburg, Va.

But bring a truck.

The haul of three friends.