.......More writings from the past.........

     I'm including  two more writings, so that I may have them here off their original paper to this form...
      This one, dated : 7/18/1979 has a dedication to my good friend Sharon, whom I just got back in contact with, after all those years....

                 I feel very much alone.
                 I take only that which serves me best
                 in the light of Tomorrow.
   
                         Ah, Yesterday, I only catch a glimpse 
                 that reflex a lifetime which is gone,
                 that it may build the future.

                 Present day prospects are ensued 
                 by confusion...where do I take Tomorrow,
                 from Yesterdays Dreams.....


     Now this one, which is not dated, but part of that same period...

                When  is the Right Time, to be there.
                 To be there and show your love....

                 When is the Right Time to say:
                That you're the only one....

                 Can this be the Right Time,
                 when all is quiet and still...?
      
                 Or is it just the Right Time,
                 when you make it your Will....?

                 Can this be the Right Time
                 when love is fresh and pure....

                Or can this be the Right Time
                when you are not sure...?

                The Right Time is and always will be,
                a moment in the Past....
                
                when all is said and done,
                and not a Soul will ask.......
 
 

....Picking up where I left off a few yearsa ago....

      
         I realize that I haven't had any entries in my Blog lately, so I'm taking from some of those days in the past, that are of writings I did back when, of people and places I knew then.... 
      
        ............January third, 1976.............
     

         The New Year has finally arrived! I'm still in a financial vacuum, which I have no release from at this moment. I do however, have more confidence in the future by signs that were appearing for me recently. 
     I would hope to finish this painting so that I can start on another, it is such a good release, as is writing.....

            ...Give me time to experience and give me the next day to love, fore I wish to see life..............

         .............April seventeenth, 1977.............

        I'm trying to look at myself once again, not a revelation, as much as looking at changes that might stem from the past.
        It's a perfect Sunday.....as Sundays are these days. That's including work later on. Things are doing much better now, at work. The Resturant is concrete. It will be outstanding and I will be a part of it....
      
            ...Love is with me, day by day, I need that extra love, maybe someone a little bit closer......

       ...........July twenty third , 1977-  Saturday 3:00 p.m.

       Three Months have past since my last writing, which once again it's a beautiful afternoon, here at the picnic table, bottle of Wine,  1971 Napa Valley and half Nude.
       Unlike that Spring afternoon, I find myself out of a job at the Golden Bough. My life has once again changed...for the better..?! It seems strange, to have such wonderful weather at a time of Death. A Death I was involved with. Once more to listen to words he will never hear again and will never convey to our living souls. I lost another friend with last words spoken to me!
       What now should I seek? The truth is still clinging, but somewhere it doesn't work.......my mind wanders, while Tokas stays near....what am I to gain, what am I to lose....?

        .............. I still believe in love..
                       My thoughts are with you,
                       all of the time.......
                       But where do I  leave you,
                       when that loving never ends..?!
         

......John Henry's Past Revisited...continued...........

       When  John Henry and his family left upper New York State, bound for the new life out West, Henry was just a youngster ready and willing to find out more in life, then what he had  there in New York, with his Mother and Father. Don't get me wrong, as far as I knew, he had loved his parents as much as any other child. But Henry was different, he needed adventure and excitement, even at his age. I guess that's what drew us together so many years later.
     
     Now bound for the West he would find those things and many more that no one could tell you or would tell you, if they did  had experienced just part of what he was about to find in that new land they were about to discover.

     After just leaving their home State of New York, Pennsylvania was about to leave them a new feeling of wonderment. Such rolling hills, and green pastures abound. It took them only a few miles to have second  thoughts about where their lives should be headed.
   Non-the-less, they moved on, knowing that what they had dreamed of was just around the bend, and over the next hill. Both that hill and that bend, as they moved on were getting further and further away from them.
    
    Leaving behind such a large of a state as that, they were now concerned about their provisions. Knowing that they had just begone a trip so large, that  Henry's parents' started to show self doubt. It was in their speech, and in their stature. Henry could see it now, but he wasn't about to let them fail the mission. He began hunting more, and honing skills that only a weathered Frontiersman could accomplish. His father was proud of what he saw develop in his now grown boy.
    
    Soon they would come upon the mighty Mississippi. Once they did, they stopped for a longer camp stay than any of the earlier ones that they did previously to get to this point. They only spent a day at the most before, knowing the ground they had top cover.
    As Henry's parents' started the process of making camp, Henry went out in the woods to explore the surroundings that would be their living quarters for a stay that none of them had ever experienced, and soon they would find out just how much.....
     

Breaking Camp with Jack Long & John Henry

       After listening to Henry telling the story of our first encounter with Grover, the large and quite indulging Negro that we have ever encountered , we thought it best to break camp, and try to reach our next destination South of here. That would be somewhere around Colorado, or Oklahoma to find another job either rounding up wild Horses, in or around Denver or herding Cattle from Oklahoma West, to where ever the best price would bring us. Both choices were not particularly something we wanted to do from our past experiences, even though the money was good, it was hard on our bodies and soul. 
     
     Hey Henry, I hollered as we were both ready to mount our Horses and head on South. 'Which sounds better to you this time, rounding up wild horses, or Herding a bunch of beef to the slaughter house?' Of course it would take a while for the cattle to get to that stage of the game, but I figured it would help Henry make up his mind quicker, seein's  he didn't like the idea of bloodshed. He'd had seen enough of that in his life so far.

    Henry's life out here started on the worst note possible. He and his Ma and Pa, had packed up back East. They  were form Northern New York. His father a Mohawk Indian, his Mother was a mix, a little Indian...Mohawk...then the rest was a of what ever was wondering around those parts at the time. He told me once he had some Irish and German, which explained a lot when he got a hold of some 'Fire-water', and went on a tear for a couple days with not a soul that could stop him.
   Another reason that he got so ornery, was when they started there new life on the road out West. They had their wagon packed with an extra horse in tow along with a supply Mule, that carried any extra supplies needed. They headed out on a fine day in the early Spring, thinking that they needed as much good weather at the start, so there could get a jump on it as farther West they went.
    Henry was still a youngster, but proud to help out where ever he could, growing up fast on that  trip to the Mississippi. There were making good time and didn't encounter much trouble so far along the way. They had brought plenty of provisions to get them at least past the river.
     Now they were in some rough territory. Henry's father had rode out years prior to scout out the area, but hadn't gone much further from where they were now, when the weather got too rough and he had to turn back. But it would all be new to them soon enough, as they made their way into the Great Plains.
    At the time the Great Plains were nothing to fool with, since not many have been around to talk about it. They either made it through or went around.
       John Henry, his mother and his father, had to make a decision. Should they go Northwest, Southwest, or continue due West......

..Auntie...Above All ...Indians...and things...

       As I have promised, some more of my Aunties' Musings that she put to paper not so long ago, but has brought back things that happened, so long ago in her life time, that I'm happy she did, and also happy that now I can offer them to you. I think you'll like this one, as I have hoped that you liked them all.....

      This goes back to 1930 when: according to Auntie....
  ..... One evening after a church meeting, a few of us gathered around to chat, when the subject of Above All was brought up, and Woody Rahm, who knows Warren pretty well, was teasing me about being born here. He went on to say that Marge Regner and I were two of the oldest natives still in Warren, and that we were here when the Indians were. But his jest did bring back memories, and little did he know that we were here before them...

          One evening as I sat doing my Homework, under a 30 watt electric bulb, some men came top the door, and my father then ushered in fifteen men who said they were from an Indian Tribe in Canada, with questions to ask him. They said there were three tribal chiefs among them; they had left three big touring cars parked down next to the barn. They were all in business suits except for one very old, thin, bronze-looking man straggly white hair and with deep wrinkles in his face, who was wearing a leather outfit.
      They had heard that my father, who at the time was in charge of seven state parks, knew a great deal about the people and the land around Lake Waramaug. they must have talked for over an hour. The old fellow seemed to concentrating on something in his hands which we could not see. Then he looked at me and said something, as I could not understand what he said, my father told me to go to him. I was a little skeptical, but knew my father would protect me. The old Indian Chief showed me an emerald bracelet he had been working on, and took my hand to put it on my wrist. It was so beautiful and I really wanted it, but unfortunately, my wrist was too large. I wanted to keep it anyway, but he put it in his pocket or pouch and pulled another out, which was no where near as pretty. It was two copper wires twisted together with pretty stones in it here and there,pink, amber, lavender, orange, each set apart. I accepted it and thanked him very much for his kindness.
     My father told me later that the old chief wanted to take me back to his tribe, as he thought I would make some Indian a nice chubby squaw. [ I never new if it was true , or if my father was joshing me ].
        They thought that my father might know of some land that was left by the tribe at Lake Waramaug. The way my father could help them was to finally say that they might find some information in the Litchfield town records. They left [peacefully] to their automobiles. It really gave us something to think about.
     I still have the bracelet somewhere in my memories......

  ..........Just to make it clear, that that story was from my Aunts memories, about her , her father...my Grandfather, and the land of Above All in Warren that was at the time thought to be the highest elevation in Connecticut, hence the name, was owned by my family, where my cousin Calvin lives as the last one on the land.

    This also gives me credence to my blood with Chief Warmaug, and also gives me the identity to help write my story of ...
.........  John Henry and Jack Long in the Wild west......

Finding a Fresh Start to the End of a New Year!

             As the last of this past year comes to a close, I thought to wonder what would be a good closing for me to put down here so that everyone would enjoy. I was looking through my 'old' writings, like the one's I posted last, but seemed to come up empty for any thing that might satisfy. I was lucky to have found a post from the 'Hippie Freaks' site on fb  a song not at all familiar, but it just so happened to fit the bill. Also on the back side of that site, were some songs from the '50's & '60's that lasted 2 &1/2 hours....just long enough to go through most of the two folders in front of me containing those writings I mentioned earlier. Ah, but alas, there was more than mine to be viewed. Anyone familiar with this blog, will know that I not only write my own, but I share from others, like my 'Auntie' Connie. She was the youngest of the six sisters and second to the youngest of all her siblings. My father being the youngest of them all. Her birthday was the same as mine. She died shortly before her 95th. She is dearly missed! 
    So now I will be adding a few of the things she wrote about in her lifetime. This is one of many that I just found......it's titled:
                          
                         My First Ice Cream Cone

        One lovely Summer morning my Auntie asked my mother if she
could take me with her to New Preston, as she had to get some things from the store. Evidently, they were glad to get rid of me for a while as I was all of six years old and a real nuisance at times. They put a clean dress on me and I followed Auntie to where her horse and buggy waited. I was thrilled to pieces , as I had so seldom had an opportunity to go anywhere. This was really special. Auntie had no children and she was rather 'straight laced', as they used to say. But to ride in a Buggy behind the beautiful gold colored horse she had, made me very happy.
    Now this was Above All and there were two ways toget to the road leading to New Preston. We could either go down the Break Neck road, or the East road which came out on Sackett road. I don't think Auntie cared about going down Break Neck road because she took the longer route, the East road. Of course all of the roads in Warren were dirt at the time, and about every 25 feet there was a 'Josey'. For those who are unfamiliar with the word, I'll try to explain. Because the roads were so steep that every time it rained, it would wash the dirt away and and there would eventually be no road. So these 'Joseys' were made by digging a small trench across the road to catch the water and divert it to the ditch at the side of the road. That is the way we went down from Above All past the Sacketts place, which I looked at with awe, as they were the more 'well-to-do'  People in town, then past Jack Andreggs, and around the Hair Pin curve and finally reaching a straight stretch of road past  John Chappuis' on down past Gus Chappuis, past Martin Benson's past Bragues and then came in sight of the beautiful Lake Waramaug! The horse clip-clopped along at a nice trot past Bates place. Further down on the right was the Hotel, a very large yellow building, sitting almost on the Lake and a very busy place it was in the summer time. We passed Flirtation Ave., [no stop signs] and down into New Preston where we turned  left as there was no other way to go..[the road straight down from New Preston to route 202 was not built at the time..]
    We went to see Bill Jessum, the blacksmith, who had his shop in the red building, which is still there. We  waited while he tacked a lose shoe on the horse, which had been giving a little trouble. Then we went to Lyman's store on the opposite side of the road for groceries. We got back in the buggy and drove back the way we came, stopping at Burnhams Dry Goods store, where my Aunt purchased something, I never new what.
    She said, " would you like an ice cream cone ?" What is that?" I stupidly replied. She then took me to the store on the corner where I met Fannie Heff. Now Fannie was what it looked to me like a typical chef or baker, her hair was coal black and short, like a man's. Her face was round and very rosy, joyful looking.she wore absolutely no make-up, what you saw is what you got.
    "What kind of ice cream do you want?" Auntie asked. Now what did she mean 'what kind did I want?'. There was only one kind that I knew, and that was plain home-made ice cream in a freezer that the boys made on Sunday by turning a  handle and putting ice and salt in the container. Finally, Fannie said "I have chocolate, strawberry, and vanilla, which kind did you want?"  WHICH kind did I want - I'd take one of each- but decisions, decisions. Why I never made a decision in my life. Why should I ? I had parents and nine brothers and sisters who had been making decisions for me since I was born! Auntie decided to step in and we ended up with a strawberry ice cream cone. We then gave the horse a drink at the watering trough which I think was near the Pavilion Hall, and headed back to Warren, licking our ice cream cones.
    I think I was the happiest and most contented kid in Warren that day, just to get a ride in a carriage drawn by a beautiful horse, which was my idea of extreme pleasure, and to have my first ice cream cone. What more could I ask for.......

                    .....ahhhhhhh, yes, now I sit back and think about not just the year that pasted us,  but those years that seem to escape us from the past, if only life could be so simple, to enjoy the things we have, as Auntie put it, 'What more could I ask for....'
             
    I do have another that I will post at a later date along with my own that I am getting excited to continue here......stay tuned...
 

     This is such a strange time of year. It brings people closer together, either through friendship, or just the Damn fact to keep warm! That of course is for my Northern friends that I do miss this time of year, meaning mostly those warm Winter Hugs...and you know who you are...
   I've spent many a Winters cutting and bringing in fire wood. As a boy, to help my Dad with four footer to go into the wood Furnace in the cellar. Then later on, with shorter pieces that 'Wood' fit in the various stoves that I've owned over my life time.
    Now, living here in Sunny Florida, I have just the thought's to bring me back to those days, thank goodness they're only thoughts, since I 'Wood' not be able to deal with such a chore, and that's just to keep the place warm...not to mention the Snow and ice...where the Hell 'Wood' I put that..?!!

   So now I would like to share some of the happier moments of my youth, back in December of 1960........like the Happiest Christmas of all.....

                   There was this Cool Cat...
                   Man, he was like real sad,
                   He wanted 'ol Whisker's 
                   to visit him real Bad.

                   Yeah, Man, this Cool Cat
                    was so Beatnik sad,
                   He was like floating 
                   in his Beatnik Pad!

                   It was like the 24th
                   and Man, you see...
                   this Cool Cat didn't have...
                   well, like a Christmas Tree!

                  Yeah, said the Cool Cat, 
                   it's like a sad day for me...
                  Man, for a swinging Christmas,
                  I need like a Swinging Christmas Tree!

                  I just hope that 'ol Rolley Polley comes,
                  and brings me some Bongo Drums.
                  I don't have a Christmas tree though...
                  but I bet I can get a Mistle Toe!

                  Every thing was quiet ...
                  in his little Pad,
                  but then came something,
                  it was Wild and Mad...

                  There he came down, 
                  with a BAM...
                  and there was my Bongos,
                  sitting right on his hand!

                  After all he had done,
                  Santa went up with snort from his Thumb!
                  The Cat played his Bongos all around,
                  he found out, soon, that he had the best in town!