Ghost Towns, Today and Memories.

While we were in West Virginia we visited a ghost town. Nuttalburg, WV was a coal mining town in the New River Gorge. It is at the end of a long lwinding, narrow road, with several tiny, narrow bridges, a few places where wash outs had made the road even narrower, and some spots where you just had to question whether the trip was worth it. It was.

West Virginia is a place of magic, a land filled with deep, tree covered draws, steep, forested mountains and after a rain it is easy to imagine the white, cotton mist as a living thing. We met so many welcoming, wonderful people. The WV Department of Natural Resources does such an extraordinary job it is hard to think of them as merely human. And Nuttalburg was no exception. They mapped the ruins, describing the function of each, explaining the location, most importantly maintaining them in such wonderful condition, much better than the road.

This is the chute that moved the coal from the mine down to the railroad tracks. It was very elaborate. Careful plans were made to ensure that the coal was not damaged or reduced in any way, as it was conveyed down the mountain. Of course the miners had to walk up and down a long steep path to get to the mine. But, that’s the price of being human.

The ruins probably covered a half mile, a narrow strip of a forgotten time, hopes, wishes, prayers. It didn’t take a lot of imagination to hear the children laughing and playing outside of the ruins of the school house. Children with their own dreams, children whose parents made the long trek from all over to scrape out a living in the coal mine. Families whose lives were bound up in the mine, the coal, the trains that took it away. 

At the far end were the ruins of the company store. People traded their time for wages from the company and the wages from the company to the store owned by the company. It was a closed system,  the circle of life. Everything was there, everything rode the rails in or out. It was a perfect circle. It made me a little uncomfortable, it seems there should be some homage paid to the sacrifices made, the work, the industry, the ingenuity of these people. 

Today, I woke early and sat on the deck, and I thought of those people whose lives were tied to the mine, the railroad, the river, the company. Did they ever have the opportunity to set, drink coffee in solitude and wonder about the nature of living, the cost of being human? In a hundred years would people have different dreams? And, I couldn’t find any answers, so I looked at my pictures, said a silent prayer for all of humanity, past, present and future, and wrote this post. It’s the way I escape.

The Homeless and Empty Houses

Empty house.

I sit here at my notebook gazing out the window idly gazing at the empty house at the end of our street asking myself how is it fair with all the homeless we have in this state and town it can remain so.

From what I understand and I won't quote what I heard it was selling for but it's supposedly for people who are on a low income. In fact, it's through an agency that we have applied to and got approved, waiting for our turn. We are on a waiting list. A very long waiting list.

Before, a very old house that was falling apart stood where this brand new house is sitting now. We all listened and watched as the workers demolished the old house warning the neighborhood kids to stay away from that area. That was 2 summers ago. I'm sorry the picture is so dark but once again we have some very dark clouds hovering over St. Johnsbury.

I decided to google and see what was going on and I found "172 homeless children in Chittenden County alone". 

I find a story about a family being homeless.  This family had fallen on hard times. Then I run across an article 25 percent more homeless in Vermont than in 2012.

It just goes on and on but here I sit staring at a 2-bedroom brand new house with an adjourning garage that has been sitting empty for at least two years. I just don't get it.

What are your thoughts about homelessness? I love stories so do tell.

The Kid In Me

I came across this meme and thought to myself, this would come in handy for my 2nd-floor stairs. I could also slide down the heavier bags, all kinds of stuff. But then the door would be blocked, Mr. Rose and I having to get out the safety roll down the ladder you attach to the window contraption. This is a drill people, no fires here and put the ladder back.

Then I got to thinking about that chair-like contraption, I love that word, that attached to the stairs wondering if one would even fit in our super narrow stairway. How much weight could this chair hold and could I refrain from turning it into a carnival ride. I get bored or curious. When it's both I suggest you run for the hills.

So I'm looking for more pins or doing whatever it is that I do all day, I'm sure it's the long road to be all you can be blogger, and come across an escalator in a mall. Don't ask. Picturing a slide on that got me an image of people flying down the imaginary slide at top speed you would need bales of hay or something soft, I know, pillows, it is a mall, to stop you from sliding past the perfume counter.

I am satisfied with kids, adults, adults that are kids with sliding down an outdoor slide I have decided to have one built in my backyard, like my landlady would approve that one, and give it a go myself, bad joints be cursed. Unless it rains. Then it's a water slide.

Autumn, kind of, a little bit, maybe.

Today is the official start of the fall season.  Not really official in the official sense, but my youngest son is back in school, tired, cranky, and irritable (as far as I can tell that never changes.   from pre-school to college, which is a good reason to put them in a dorm, I suppose).  But, it is also the time of year parenting has the biggest rewards.

It is a chance to show your parenting chops, your math, English, art skills, that have hidden, lying dormant for so long.  Take them out, dust them off, strut them around the living room for a while.  You should make sure to dim the lights a little, you don't want to blind anybody.

But, as soon as you find that your child is in Algebra 3, or Pre-Calculus, or some bizarre thing, and you have no idea what any of those things even mean.  You look through the book for something remotely recognizable, anything that will allow you to step in and say "let me help you with that, son."  But, it looks like the book was written by aliens from a distant planet with math skills far surpassing the long division you are still struggling to learn, thank goodness they put calculators on everything.  No worries, you can still call upon your grammar skills to impress.

Unfortunately, grammar has turned into "Language Arts" and they are reading the "Iliad," and who knows what any of that is about.   It was written by ancient foreigners, about something that might make a great movie, with the Rock, or Vin Diesel, but it is almost impossible to read.  Why can't they teach some good, American stuff, maybe some Louis L'amour, or John Grisham, or even a little of that woman who wrote all of those alphabet based crime books, "A is for Arson," "B is for Bad, Bad Grades," then you could really flex your literary muscles.  But, it is not to be.

Do they want to talk about government, having lived through person kind of an expert in Government excesses, and the workings of official Washington.  But, nobody wants to hear about that anymore.  Now everybody wants to talk about filibusters, and appropriations, and committees, and caucuses.  Bunch of pointless words, who knows or cares what any of that stuff means. Oh well, those who don't learn from history are doomed to repeat it, and when that smug little Political Science teacher talks about discretionary vs. mandatory spending he is just inviting corruption and abuse.  It's not your problem, right, you tried to help.

Man, when they were in Kindergarten, they really thought you were smart, snotty little know it alls, anyway.  Kids are such a nuisance, anyway.

Hey, you can't argue with fate.

I am a rational, reasonable adult, far from perfect, but mature, and free from the most major defects, for the most part.  Sure, there is a very rational fear of spiders, but that is just self preservation, and if you set up a Google Alert for spider news, like I have, you would see why.  And, nobody can really be all that comfortable flying, for one thing you are packed in that metal can so tightly that you need to synchronize your breathing with the passenger next to you, (fortunately, I hardly breath on planes) and you are squeezed into toddler seats (I don't even like to be that close to my family) and then they fling that sucker through the air in defiance of all laws of nature, science and reason.

And then some smug, arrogant condescending, disembodied voice has the nerve to say, "please put away all reading material, and shut off any electronic devices, please don't even think about using anything that might give you any brief pleasure in the last few precious moments of life, or distract you for even a few seconds from facing the certain death that waits all of you when we finally get this giant mess of aluminum and tangled wire off the ground..."  Oops, sorry about that, most times they don't sound that smug, at all.  Wait, where was I?  Oh yeah.

I like to think of myself as a sane, normal adult.  And recently it seems that maybe I am spending too much time with technology, and not enough time with reality.  It seems like I am constantly checking the status of my village in Clash of Clans (doing quite well, thank you), or Dark Ages (a little behind the eight ball here, need some more lumber mills to really make some time), constantly chasing more elixir or conquests.  Always trying to score big points using middle school vocabulary in "Words With People Who Always Win,"  Maybe that time should be spent with people, maybe I should use those words in conversation.

"Hey, 'Words With Friends' friend, how about I buy you a cup of coffee, and we just talk?"  That seems reasonable, right?

Maybe, it is time to put aside the iPhone, the iPad, cable TV, computers, blue tooth, Blu-Ray, Xbox,

all of the technological meth amphetamines of life, and start looking at the world through eyes long addicted to terminals, flat screens and the retina displays.  What wonders wait just beyond the steel cage of the technology?  Why must we always heed the siren's call to our devices?

It might be time to put all of these toys aside, grow up a bit, and meet life's challenges head on.

Maybe not, though. Last week I left my phone at home, and the withdrawal symptoms were so severe they required hospitalization, thank the gods for health insurance.  And I have that free video "rental" from Red Box that expires today, shame to let that go to waste, it is like a license to print money.  My wife and I have been happily married for a long time, no pointing in tempting fate through conversation.  What will she think if she finds out how dull I really am, and leaves me for somebody fascinating?  Where will that leave our children.

Maybe personal electronics are the next step in evolution.  Crawl out of the ocean, leave the cave, climb down out of the trees, put on a shirt, some pants and a pair of shoes, and start a virtual empire on your iPhone.  It kind of makes sense in a cosmic way, if you think about it.  Maybe we are supposed to learn to use these tools, like we harnessed fire, and incorporated the wheel into our lives.   Who am I to argue with destiny?

Well, I'm glad we got that out in the open, it is certainly a big relief.