Seeing Signs

My youngest daughter and I headed down to Florida two months ago. It was her Spring Break and she was looking forward to a respite from the Vermont weather. I was happy to be visiting with one of my brothers.

I like a day at the beach just as much as the next guy. But I also like to do a bit of exploring. So, on one of the days, I suggested visiting an orange grove. Because Florida has miles and miles of citrus farms. Plus I like orange juice.

There were no tours on this particular day so we scoped out the place and sampled some of the different fruit slices that were being offered. Bought some freshly squeezed juice to bring home.

Leaving the grove we began a version of what my daughter calls, “Moose Hunting.”

You might ask, “What on earth is that?”

Here’s the short version. Said Mary never.

There are many signs posted all over New England highways.

Bear Crossing-Stay Alert

Moose Crossing-Stay Alert

Deer Crossing-Stay Alert

Or the one I observed this past weekend in Vermont.

Wildlife Crossing-Stay Alert

It’s like they (the sign makers) just sighed, gave up and lumped all the animals together. Lazy scuts.

Back to my point. For all of these roadside warnings it is very rare to see a moose.

Deer? Yes.

Bear? Maybe.

Moose? Nah.

They exist, for sure, but no one actually ever sees one.

Enough with the warnings already.

So when my daughter and her college friends go exploring it’s called, “Moose Hunting.”

Sort of like rambling.

Whoever is in the passenger seat will give directions. Knowing they won’t see a moose but keeping hope alive.

“Go left.”

“Go Straight.”

“Go right.”

In the end they will arrive at some random town/destination. It’s just a fun way to get out and explore.

On this day in Florida, my daughter was in the passenger seat as we we left the citrus farm.

She said, “Take a right.”

And then another right.

My brother follows her directions. Drives a bit.

There is a cemetery on the left hand side. He slows the car.

He says to me, “Because I know how you like cemeteries and history.”

What he actually thought was probably more along these lines, “As good a place as any to stop for a smoke.” 🙂

Looked like a nicely maintained cemetery. We drive in and pull to the side. Lots of trees dripping with Spanish Moss.

We get out and stretch our legs. Have a look around the area.

There is a big tree with things on it. Signs that say “Truth” and “Respect.” Another one says something like, “Thief or SOB. Think before you steal from the dead.”

I’m not sure what all is going on with that tree.

To the right of this tree is another one. This also has something posted. Looks like a “Reward” sign is nailed to it. We get a little closer to see what exactly it is.

Oh my goodness. It is the unsolved murder of a young boy. His grave is behind the tree where the “Reward” notice hangs. His name was John Welles and he was killed in July of 2003.

This town appears to be very small. Seemed like a few surnames dominated the cemetery. Probably the founding families of the town. Welles was one of the names.

It is always sad when a young person is taken too soon. But horrific when it is an act of violence. This poor family never having the opportunity for any type of closure. No one ever being held accountable for taking the life of their child. Someone getting away with murder. Sixteen long years for his loved ones.

We looked around the rest of the cemetery on our way out of there. Confederate flags provided a pop of color on some of the older graves.

Took a last look and we were back on the road.

Now we were very curious to know more about what happened to poor John. Surely, there would be tons and tons of information on such a case. The killing of a young white boy from a small Southern town, descended from settlers, would most definitely be plastered all over the news. I imagined reading about on-going campaigns to reopen the case, reward offerings, articles, etc.

So, after dinner, we put Google to work. What we found was next to nothing. His obituary and one article from a “Most Wanted” type of site. Quoting his mom. That’s about it. Very, very strange.

His mother, after the murder, posted more than 350 notices on billboards in three counties asking people if they had tips to contact police. Apparently, it didn’t help at all.

John’s obituary here.

His mother’s plea here.

Seemed that John arrived home from Walmart that Sunday morning at 11:30am. Within five hours he was found dead in a creek near his house. It was originally thought to be a drowning but an autopsy showed that he was shot in the eye first and then put in the water.

How does something like this happen in a small town on a Sunday afternoon in the middle of summer? No one sees anything? No one knows anything? Why does there not appear to be any interest in solving the case?

So bizarre.

I did come across another article about a young man who was also found dead in the creek. About the same age as John. Found that to be a bit curious.

It is my sincere hope that one day John’s family will finally receive the answers and justice they truly deserve. That one day they can finally take down the sign.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Just Curious Is All

I am, by nature, a curious sort. Born that way.

The other day I was looking out the back window at the birds.

I said, aloud, “Wow. So many Blackbirds.”

“Wonder where they’ve all been.”

“Why are they called Red-winged Blackbirds when they sure look orange to me?”

“Wonder why they have that orange on their wings anyway?”

Turned away from the window and my husband was staring and laughing at me.

He asked, “Are you done talking to the window?”

I replied, “Just curious is all.” 🙂

I figured the red (or orange) blaze probably had something to do with males displaying their bad, colorful selves to attract the ladies. I knew, since I was a little kid and learned (much to my dismay) that the pretty red Cardinal was the male, that the boy birds were nothing but a bunch of show-offs.

But my curiosity is not sated by my guessing or figuring. It’s actually stoked. I am so curious that I have to actually go and look this up later. I use the Dewey Decimal system. Okay, I just google it. And then I am satisfied. Sort of.

According to the different sources I checked there is absolutely no mention of orange. Just red! What?? Even if you google “Orange-winged Blackbird” it automatically comes up with “Red-winged Blackbird.” Like it’s a gaming system that’s been “fixed.” I typed orange!!!! I’m just wondering who has money on red! And how much????? LOL

For me, because curiosity is inherent, it just means that the day I am not curious is the day I’m not myself.

Message for the week. Be true to yourself.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Class Act

Let’s add this to Mary’s “Embrace the Fall and Winter” list. I believe this will be number three. It’s definitely not a ranking of importance. Just a numbering system of what pops into my head at any given moment.

Take a class.

It doesn’t have to be a big commitment like night school. Check to see what is available in your area. There might be cooking, soap making, painting, music and other classes going on near you.

As my faithful readers know, I live near the beach and as a result of my daily beach combing have amassed quite the collection of sea glass.

Over the summer, I noticed that our local Audubon Society was offering classes at their Nature Center. It was a jewelry making course. With sea glass. Well, that just called out my name. But unfortunately, after consulting my calendar, I had another commitment and wouldn’t be able to attend.

Drats!

But I figured it couldn’t hurt to give them a quick buzz. I called them and asked if there would be any future classes. They advised me that there would be additional offerings. In the Fall.

Perfect!

My friend and I signed up, paid and marked our calendars.

It was just a couple of hours on a Saturday. We walked to the center on the East Bay bike path. And thoroughly enjoyed the morning.

It was time with my friend. Also met and chatted with new people. Had a couple of laughs. Learned something new. Got out of the house. Communed with nature.

Here is the result. Mine is the lavender one-top left.

The thing is this. You never know what will ignite your passion.

My cousin, Elizabeth, learned how to knit awhile ago and now she’s a freaking yarn junkie. She had no clue that it would hit her like that.

Maybe sea glass jewelry making won’t be your thing. Or knitting. Or painting. But there might be something out there that could end up being a match made in heaven. Your new passion.

Or it might just be a nice couple of hours out of the house in autumn or winter. A respite from cabin fever.

Expanding your horizons. Being in adult company. Maybe meeting a new best friend. Adding to your skill set.

Check the community board at your library. Grocery stores usually have these types of notices taped to their windows. Locally owned  businesses are always happy to share fun events. If all else fails search Google. 🙂

Go seek fun and cheer.

 

 

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Caper

I ask a lot of questions. I’m a curious sort. Especially now that I am older and no longer care if my questions are deemed silly.

Ran into the grocery the other day for capers. I asked the guy who was stocking the shelves where I could locate them. He got up and showed me where they were in the next aisle. He went back to work.

I realized then that I really didn’t know what a caper is and I wanted to know. I was spending nearly $5.00 USD on a small bottle of it.

Sure, I could have left.

I turned around and went back to the man.

I said, “Hey.”

He replied, “Hey.”

I continued, “What exactly is a caper?”

He looks at me and says, “I really don’t know.”

Gets up off his stool.

I say, “No bother. It’s okay.”

He says, “No, now you have me curious.”

I ask, “You going to google it?” Lol.

There is a young female employee. He asks her.

She says, “I don’t know but my mother uses them in her German meals.”

So she googles it.

A caper is a small edible flower bud. Comes from a bush native to Mediterranean region.

 

 

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Just GoOgle

One evening we were sitting and chatting.

Someone asked, “How did Google get its name?”

My daughter and I spit out answers at the exact same time.

She says, “It is a math term that represents 1 followed by 100 zeros.”

I said, “Go ogle. Go look. It makes perfect sense since the origin of the word ogle derives from a word for eyes. Go look.”

We immediately googled how Google got its name.

Of course, my daughter’s answer immediately popped up as a result of the search. All those zeros representing the endless information on the web.

I couldn’t find my wonderful answer anywhere. 😦

Instead of declaring defeat I stated, “Well, I like my answer better. I’m using it.”

My brother said, “And you’d be wrong.”

I reverted to my ten year old self and retorted, “So what? I don’t care. I’m using it anyway.”

No, I won’t pretend my answer is how Google actually got its name. If that math thingy is their story and they’re sticking to it then I can’t really argue with them.

But when someone’s asking who is knocking at the front door I will just have to spew, “Google!”

If the kid can’t find her homework I’ll say, “Just Google!”

Husband wondering if a program is on the television? Ummm, “Google.”

I might not ever have to utter the phrases “Go look” or “Just go look” again.

New year. New possibilities.

Wishing you all a new year filled with possibility, imagination and humor. And don’t forget, every once in awhile, to give a nod to your ten year old self.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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