At last, a second installment of cemetery reviews! Last month, I had the good fortune to visit two very old and gorgeous cemeteries in Manchester, New Hampshire. I'll be reviewing them, and I'll be reviewing an old favorite from Windsor, Vermont. Enjoy!
1. Old South Church Cemetery, Windsor, Vermont
Old South Church Cemetery sits in the the churchyard of the Old South Church in downtown Windsor. It is a very simple and small graveyard, but it is quite pretty and attracts tourists in the fall. It seems to have been founded sometime in the mid-to-late 18th century, and is no longer active. The last burial seems to have taken place in the late 19th or early 20th century. The oldest gravestones are in the back, while the newest are in the front, a common layout with most graveyards, It has plenty of slate headstones dating from the late 18th and early 19th centuries, featuring soul effigies, urns and weeping willow trees. There are a few interesting epitaphs, including one that briefly describes the deceased cause of death: "Thrown from a Train,". Another describes "A Negro Servant who Died in Christ" and there are also a few beautiful poems, and even some Shakespeare quotes to be found.
The gravestone are in decent condition. Some of the them are damaged, especially the slate ones. Some of been repaired, but there are plenty of fallen stones, and even an old slate gravestone that has split, and is now coming apart in flakes. But most of the monuments are legible, except for a few cases where it has faded completely or where there the stone had broken off and gone missing, save for the base. A few broken and misplaced stone lean against the door of the cold storage crypt. My guess is that the damage is caused by a combination of vandalism and nature's wear and tear.
The grounds are fairly well kept. The grass is mowed, but there are lots of un-raked leaves and fallen branches. One grave stone is almost complete overgrown by brambles, which is a shame, as it is a beautiful old slate monument with a carving of a heart.
There is very little garbage in the cemetery, except for the odd bottle or drink container now and then. Overall, the cemetery is in rather good condition. Some family plots are cordoned off with ornate iron fences, but the cemetery itself only has fencing along the back and the sides of the property lines. The front of the cemetery is completely open, you can stroll into the cemetery at anytime, though I wouldn't recommend doing so after dark, as the police would most likely be patrolling the area.
The cemetery has a small population of squirrels and crows. The crows' cawing lends a rather eerie atmosphere to the cemetery.
I have never experienced anything outright paranormal in the cemetery. I have never seen or heard any ghosts in the Old South Church cemetery. But there are certain spots in the back corner and right behind the church itself that give off strange vibes. My favorite part of the cemetery is a small hill near the cold storage crypt. There is a grave on that hill belonging to a 13 year old girl named Sarah Millins, who died sometime in the 1810's. I feel oddly attached to this particular grave, for reasons I cannot explain. Every time I visit the Old South Church cemetery, I feel compelled to leave a flower at this young lady's grave and share a few kind words with her.
There appear to be a few graves belong to notable locals. I haven't seen this cemetery in over a year, but I would like to visit it again sometime soon. It is a Vermont cemetery worth visiting, especially if you enjoy slate headstones and interesting epitaphs.
2. Pine Grove Cemetery, Manchester, New Hampshire
This is without a single doubt, the biggest cemetery I have ever visited. It is so big, that you can't see all of it in one day. It is the largest cemetery in New Hampshire, according to a caretaker I talked to.
It appears to have been founded in the 1850's, when the Valley Cemetery ran out of room. It is still active, with lots of room to expand. It has a public mausoleum (which I did not visit), and even a pond with little stone bridges. There are thousands of gorgeous monuments, with lots of ornate statues, carvings and very opulent mausoleums belonging to the wealthy denizens of Manchester, featuring stained glass. There are gravestones, both modern and from the last century featuring photos of the deceased. There are two Civil War memorials. There is also a large chapel and a caretakers buildings. I could spend hours telling you about the individual mausoleums and graves I fell in love with, but not wanting to bore you anymore than I already am, I won't.
The monuments are in fantastic condition! I saw only a handful broken stones, most of them old marble ones from the 1850's.
The grounds are incredibly well kept, the grass mowed. There were fallen leaves, but that is to be expected. There were very few fallen branches. The newer sections are better kept than the old ones, and the section with the big Gilded Age mausoleums are better kept than the older part of the cemetery dating from the 1850's.
Is Pine Grove haunted? I did experience some strange activity at the Hill Mausoleum. Pictures I had taken of the inside of this particular mausoleum yielded strange phenomena, such as mist and orbs. I have also experienced freezing cold drafts coming from the mausoleum and feelings of utter terror. As a result, I avoid this monument. Otherwise, I do not think the cemetery is haunted. Overall, the place has some very comfortable, and almost familiar feelings for me.
Plenty of wealthy and notable people are buried there, but I couldn't tell you who the hell they are. Some of my favorite monuments consist of a statue of a woman and a little girl, a large sandstone monument (that's starting to crumble in places), a stone tree trunk featuring a life-sized lamb and dove and a pair of ceramic monuments shaped like open books.
This cemetery is definitely worth a trip to Manchester, and it's perhaps the most beautiful cemetery I've ever had the opportunity to visit.
3. Valley Cemetery, Manchester, New Hampshire
This is the most interesting cemetery I've ever visited. The cemetery was founded in the 1840's and was designed to be a garden cemetery. Most of the graves are located on a terraced ring of land, in the center is a valley which gives the cemetery it's name. There are very few graves in this valley. Valley Cemetery is no longer active.
The cemetery features a few slate stones from the 1840's, a couple of statues and a some mausoleums. There is also a lovely chapel, with a fountain, though that fountain appears to need repair. There are lots of beautiful carvings.
The cemetery is in sad condition, but thankfully, there has been an ongoing project to restore this beautiful, historic location to its former glory. A lot of gravestones are broken or damaged, and there are a few gravestones in the center valley of the cemetery that are overgrown and abandoned. The damage to various monuments appears to be a combination of the elements and vandalism. Some gravestones have been repaired, and some have not. There is some trash here and there, left by inconsiderate people. But like I already mentioned, there is a restoration project underway, and they're doing a wonderful job. The cemetery, even with its damage is still quite breathtaking.
While I did not experience anything outright paranormal in this cemetery, I did sense feelings of sadness and anger in areas where gravestones were broken or abandoned, especially in the center valley, where there were some isolated and overgrown stones. Otherwise, the areas that had been restored, felt peaceful. I also had overwhelming sensations of familiarity in certain parts of the cemetery, particularly near some damaged stones with ornate flower carvings, and near a mausoleum that overlooked the valley.
The cemetery contains several notable people, including several governors and mayors. There is also a website you can visit that contains information on the cemetery, you can find the link here: http://www.valley-cemetery.com/
Valley Cemetery is a gorgeous piece of history that shouldn't be left to abandon and ruin. I would definitely see this cemetery again and would recommend other to visit it, but as always I ask that people treat this beautiful place with respect.
Showing posts with label cemeteries. Show all posts
Showing posts with label cemeteries. Show all posts
Monday, October 24, 2011
Friday, February 4, 2011
Cemetery Review #1
I've decided, that every so often, I'm going to do a review of three different cemeteries. I'll discuss the condition of the monuments and the grounds. I'll talk about notable graves, and share legends about each cemetery. I'll share my observations and opinions.
I'll start with the three cemeteries I visit the most. I know these three like the back of my hand and have a lot to say about them. Enjoy!
1. St. Immanuel Episcopal Cemetery, Bellow's Falls, VT-
When I moved to Bellows Falls nearly six years ago, this is the first cemetery I visited. It's located next to the St. Immanuel Episcopal church and behind Bellows Falls Middle School. The oldest graves date from the late 18th or early 19th century and are near the the cemetery's main entrances. The newer graves sit at the back entrance along Cherry Hill Rd. There are also a bunch of new graves and a memorial garden on a hill overlooking the main part of the the cemetery. There are plenty of oak trees, and as a result the cemetery has an abundant squirrel population. The grounds are well kept, the grass is mowed. Once in awhile, there will be unraked leaves, or fallen branches that the caretaker hasn't picked up yet. In the winter, the pathways, are not plowed, presumably because the cemetery is supposed to be closed from October to May. The newer section has some trash in the bushes as a result of local kids going up there to hang out, but otherwise, it's very clean.
The gravestones are in decent condition. A few of the older ones are broken, and eroded, but some of them are repaired. I'm not sure whether the damage is caused by vandalism or natural causes. One particular stone, close to the church wall, gets buried by snow that falls off the roof every year. As a result it is completely unreadable.
While nature does attribute to a lot of the damage, vandalism is also a moderate problem. It usually comes in the form of kicked over and broken gravestones, I have yet to see any monuments damaged by spray paint or other artistic mediums. St. Immanuel's is located behind a middle school, and close to downtown BF, and as a result is prone to young people and drunks coming in and creating trouble. It's fairy easy to get into the cemetery, because not all the entrances are locked, and it's easy to hop over railings and squeeze between the gate and the fence, if you're thin enough.
At least one notable person is buried here. Hetty Green, known as "The Wicked Witch of Wall Street" and in her day, the richest woman in the world, is buried here with her husband, children and in-laws. Her gravestone is a fairly simple family obelisk made of granite, with names, and dates of birth and death. I like to leave pennies for her.
The cemetery is over all a very pretty cemetery. There aren't any statues (except for the odd urn now and then), but there are lots of very interesting carvings, and some beautiful Celtic crosses. It looks a bit spooky at night, and during the daytime one gets an uncomfortable feeling near the cold-storage crypt. The cemetery isn't outright haunted, but there is a feeling of being watched now and then. A friend of mine claims a witch is buried there, and when he sat on her table tomb, he says he felt something grab his leg. Another friend of mine told me she looked into the cold storage crypt through a crack in the doors and saw a figure moving around.
I definitely recommend visiting St. Immanuel's Episcopal Cemetery, if you like small, old cemeteries or if you're interested in Vermont history or Hetty Green.
2. Restland Cemetery, Bellows Falls Vermont
I first saw this cemetery while we were searching for an apartment in BF. I first visited this cemetery in late winter of 2006, several months after I moved in. The earliest known graves date from the mid-19th century and the most recent graves are from the late 20th century. Part of the cemetery is one flat ground, but it is also on a rather steep hill.
The grounds are very well-kept, with the grass being mowed, but there's a bit of trash in some places, due to people using the cemetery as a dumping ground or a party location. A lot of the gravestones are in fairly good condition, some of them are broken, some are weathered and very few are totally missing. I suspect there is a small amount of vandalism in this cemetery, despite being in the middle of a neighborhood. There are two entrances into Restland, a gate, and a staircase.
I have recently found out that "the last Abenaki Chief at Bellows Falls" is buried in Restland in an unknown location. Apparently, it used to be called the Rockingham Town Burying Ground. I find this very interesting, being Abenaki, myself.
The majority of cemetery occupants appear to be Irish, Italian and French. This makes a lot of sense, seeing as Bellows Falls used to be a mill town. A lot of the Irish and the Italian graves state that the people buried there emigrated.
I haven't heard any legends about the cemetery being haunted, though I have often felt like I am being watched when I am in there. There are some weird vibes in a certain corner of the cemetery where there are a lot of damaged graves. A friend of mine did a Ouija session in Restland, but did not communicate with any Restland occupants, but rather a spirit that was merely passing by.
Restland does not have any statues, but it has quite a few crosses and urns. There are a few pretty carvings. It's still definitely worth a look though, especially if you like little cemeteries. It is adjacent to Oak Hill Cemetery.
3. Oak Hill Cemetery, Bellows Falls/Westminster, Vermont
Oak Hill Cemetery is on a hill above Restland Cemetery. Half of it is technically, in Westminster VT. I first noticed this cemetery while visiting Restland, and visited the same day, but didn't stay long, for reasons I'll explain later.
The cemetery is terraced, with graves on different tiers. There is one large tier, where the majority of graves sit, and two smaller tiers filled with recent graves. The earliest graves seem to be from the mid to late 19th century. It is still very active.
The grounds are immaculately kept. I hardly ever see any trash there either. Very few of the gravestones are broken or damaged. There is some vandalism, but the town repairs most broken monuments.
Oak Hill is haunted. I have personally seen shapes, heard screams, and seen statues change their expressions. Almost everyone I have talked to has told me Oak Hill is haunted. There are a few legends surrounding the cemetery. One being that, a murderer would hide behind one of the benches and whoever sat at that bench would be brutally killed. There is however no proof that this actually happened. A friend informed me a dead girl was found in this cemetery during the 1960's, but like the legend of the murderer, there isn't any solid proof besides word of mouth.
All creepiness aside, Oak Hill is gorgeous. It's got a gazebo, a Veterans memorial, and plenty of beautiful statues and carvings. I certainly recommend this cemetery to anyone who loves cemeteries and to anyone who loves paranormal investigation.
I'll start with the three cemeteries I visit the most. I know these three like the back of my hand and have a lot to say about them. Enjoy!
1. St. Immanuel Episcopal Cemetery, Bellow's Falls, VT-
When I moved to Bellows Falls nearly six years ago, this is the first cemetery I visited. It's located next to the St. Immanuel Episcopal church and behind Bellows Falls Middle School. The oldest graves date from the late 18th or early 19th century and are near the the cemetery's main entrances. The newer graves sit at the back entrance along Cherry Hill Rd. There are also a bunch of new graves and a memorial garden on a hill overlooking the main part of the the cemetery. There are plenty of oak trees, and as a result the cemetery has an abundant squirrel population. The grounds are well kept, the grass is mowed. Once in awhile, there will be unraked leaves, or fallen branches that the caretaker hasn't picked up yet. In the winter, the pathways, are not plowed, presumably because the cemetery is supposed to be closed from October to May. The newer section has some trash in the bushes as a result of local kids going up there to hang out, but otherwise, it's very clean.
The gravestones are in decent condition. A few of the older ones are broken, and eroded, but some of them are repaired. I'm not sure whether the damage is caused by vandalism or natural causes. One particular stone, close to the church wall, gets buried by snow that falls off the roof every year. As a result it is completely unreadable.
While nature does attribute to a lot of the damage, vandalism is also a moderate problem. It usually comes in the form of kicked over and broken gravestones, I have yet to see any monuments damaged by spray paint or other artistic mediums. St. Immanuel's is located behind a middle school, and close to downtown BF, and as a result is prone to young people and drunks coming in and creating trouble. It's fairy easy to get into the cemetery, because not all the entrances are locked, and it's easy to hop over railings and squeeze between the gate and the fence, if you're thin enough.
At least one notable person is buried here. Hetty Green, known as "The Wicked Witch of Wall Street" and in her day, the richest woman in the world, is buried here with her husband, children and in-laws. Her gravestone is a fairly simple family obelisk made of granite, with names, and dates of birth and death. I like to leave pennies for her.
The cemetery is over all a very pretty cemetery. There aren't any statues (except for the odd urn now and then), but there are lots of very interesting carvings, and some beautiful Celtic crosses. It looks a bit spooky at night, and during the daytime one gets an uncomfortable feeling near the cold-storage crypt. The cemetery isn't outright haunted, but there is a feeling of being watched now and then. A friend of mine claims a witch is buried there, and when he sat on her table tomb, he says he felt something grab his leg. Another friend of mine told me she looked into the cold storage crypt through a crack in the doors and saw a figure moving around.
I definitely recommend visiting St. Immanuel's Episcopal Cemetery, if you like small, old cemeteries or if you're interested in Vermont history or Hetty Green.
2. Restland Cemetery, Bellows Falls Vermont
I first saw this cemetery while we were searching for an apartment in BF. I first visited this cemetery in late winter of 2006, several months after I moved in. The earliest known graves date from the mid-19th century and the most recent graves are from the late 20th century. Part of the cemetery is one flat ground, but it is also on a rather steep hill.
The grounds are very well-kept, with the grass being mowed, but there's a bit of trash in some places, due to people using the cemetery as a dumping ground or a party location. A lot of the gravestones are in fairly good condition, some of them are broken, some are weathered and very few are totally missing. I suspect there is a small amount of vandalism in this cemetery, despite being in the middle of a neighborhood. There are two entrances into Restland, a gate, and a staircase.
I have recently found out that "the last Abenaki Chief at Bellows Falls" is buried in Restland in an unknown location. Apparently, it used to be called the Rockingham Town Burying Ground. I find this very interesting, being Abenaki, myself.
The majority of cemetery occupants appear to be Irish, Italian and French. This makes a lot of sense, seeing as Bellows Falls used to be a mill town. A lot of the Irish and the Italian graves state that the people buried there emigrated.
I haven't heard any legends about the cemetery being haunted, though I have often felt like I am being watched when I am in there. There are some weird vibes in a certain corner of the cemetery where there are a lot of damaged graves. A friend of mine did a Ouija session in Restland, but did not communicate with any Restland occupants, but rather a spirit that was merely passing by.
Restland does not have any statues, but it has quite a few crosses and urns. There are a few pretty carvings. It's still definitely worth a look though, especially if you like little cemeteries. It is adjacent to Oak Hill Cemetery.
3. Oak Hill Cemetery, Bellows Falls/Westminster, Vermont
Oak Hill Cemetery is on a hill above Restland Cemetery. Half of it is technically, in Westminster VT. I first noticed this cemetery while visiting Restland, and visited the same day, but didn't stay long, for reasons I'll explain later.
The cemetery is terraced, with graves on different tiers. There is one large tier, where the majority of graves sit, and two smaller tiers filled with recent graves. The earliest graves seem to be from the mid to late 19th century. It is still very active.
The grounds are immaculately kept. I hardly ever see any trash there either. Very few of the gravestones are broken or damaged. There is some vandalism, but the town repairs most broken monuments.
Oak Hill is haunted. I have personally seen shapes, heard screams, and seen statues change their expressions. Almost everyone I have talked to has told me Oak Hill is haunted. There are a few legends surrounding the cemetery. One being that, a murderer would hide behind one of the benches and whoever sat at that bench would be brutally killed. There is however no proof that this actually happened. A friend informed me a dead girl was found in this cemetery during the 1960's, but like the legend of the murderer, there isn't any solid proof besides word of mouth.
All creepiness aside, Oak Hill is gorgeous. It's got a gazebo, a Veterans memorial, and plenty of beautiful statues and carvings. I certainly recommend this cemetery to anyone who loves cemeteries and to anyone who loves paranormal investigation.
Why I Love Taking People To Cemeteries
It's already been established that I love cemeteries. And while I usually visit them by myself, I do enjoy bringing people along for my cemetery safaris. Friends, family, romantic interests, I've dragged them all to cemeteries.
A cemetery is a great place to hang out with someone, once you get around the fact that you've got several hundred dead bodies under your feet. Provided your companion(s) don't have a phobia of burial grounds, and are open-minded, you're bound to have a good time, and here's a few reasons why:
1. Cemeteries are Peaceful
Cemeteries are generally quiet and calm places, especially if they're small, rural cemeteries. Unless a very famous person is buried there, or the cemetery has some kind of reputation, you're not going to find a lot of people there. Unfortunately, because most cemeteries are so isolated, a lot of teenagers and other young people use them as a place to party. This leads to vandalism and littering most of the time. I DO NOT condone partying or vandalism in cemeteries, I find such behavior deplorable.
When I take my loved ones to cemeteries, I find that the quietness makes it easier for us to enjoy each other's company. Surrounded by tombstones, I've had deep, meaningful conversations with my companions. There aren't any distractions in a cemetery, even if it's near a busy road or in the middle of civilization. Entering a cemetery can be a lot like entering another realm. Once inside, nothing matters but you and whoever you're with. You can discuss a lot of things, be honest, be yourself. A cemetery isn't like a club, you're not going to find pretentious hipsters judging your every move, just a lot of silent dead people and maybe a caretaker.
2. Cemeteries Can Be Interesting
Most people assume that cemeteries are boring places, but more often than not, I'll take someone to a cemetery, and they'll find themselves utterly fascinated by the monuments and their, epitaphs, carvings and statues. They'll comment on names, dates, and the items people leave on gravestones. They ask questions, questions I love answering. And while they may not become full-blown taphophiles like myself, my cemetery companions are at least briefly interested in a passion that is so near and dear to me.
3. You Can See Interesting Wildlife
Animals can adapt to pretty much any environment. We see birds nesting in buildings, squirrels climbing telephone wires and skunks raiding dumpsters. And as I've often seen, animals live quite comfortably in cemeteries, especially the park style of cemetery made popular in the 19th century. It's a lot of fun taking friends to a graveyard and admiring all the different types of animals that inhabit the area. I've seen squirrels leaping around, climbing trees and sitting on gravestones. I've seen plenty of birds, especially crows, perched on monuments. Once my boyfriend and I saw a little frog in Oak Hill cemetery. He's from New Jersey, and that frog was the first live frog he'd ever seen.
Domestic animals also get in on the game. I can't tell you how many times I've strolled through a cemetery just to find a house cat, sauntering between the headstones, or napping on the flat monuments. These cemetery cats always have this look, like they own the place, and they're patrolling the grounds, making sure nothing, supernatural or otherwise is disturbing the peace. It makes sense. Cats used to be considered guardians of the Afterlife.
4. Great Dog Walking
This is a touchy subject, seeing as most cemeteries forbid dogs. This is because dogs have a tendency to poop, and their owners have a tendency to not pick up after them.
But, if you're a responsible dog walker, who follows the laws regarding leashes and plastic baggies, then cemeteries, especially large ones are great places to take Rover for a jaunt. My Aunt Michelle and I take her charming Goldendoodle, Izzy to plenty of cemeteries, and it's down right pleasant. Izzy loves it. There's lots of new things to sniff, room to run around, and if your dog gets thirsty, you can just turn on one of the spigots used to water flowers. I wouldn't recommend going on a cemetery doggy walk however, if your pooch doesn't follow commands really well, since there's nothing worse than a loose dog in a cemetery. Except maybe loose teenagers in a cemetery.
5. Cemeteries Are Just Awesome
Let's face it. Cemeteries are actually really cool places. You can learn a lot about society, culture and history just by looking at a cemetery. While yes, sometimes they can be spooky, they can be fun too, and sometimes that spookiness is part of the fun, especially around Halloween. Don't hesitate. Grab some friends, some family, and explore your local cemetery! You'll be surprised about how much you'll enjoy yourselves.
But on a somber note, if you do go to a cemetery, PLEASE treat the place with respect. That means no drinking, littering, vandalism. This is sacred ground. How would you feel if a bunch of assholes destroyed the graves of your loved ones, for no reason other than that they were bored or drunk? You'd feel like shit, wouldn't you? You'd be hurt, and angry. So before you kick over that gravestone, or tag it with graffiti, think about the person buried there, and the people they left behind who loved them. It doesn't matter if it's an old slate stone from the 18th century, a faded marble stone from the 19th century or a brand new shiny granite monument. That grave still belongs to a person. A person just like you. So have a heart.
And if that speech didn't dissuade you from your path of destruction, then maybe this will. Vandalism is illegal. It is illegal, and you will most likely be caught.
A cemetery is a great place to hang out with someone, once you get around the fact that you've got several hundred dead bodies under your feet. Provided your companion(s) don't have a phobia of burial grounds, and are open-minded, you're bound to have a good time, and here's a few reasons why:
1. Cemeteries are Peaceful
Cemeteries are generally quiet and calm places, especially if they're small, rural cemeteries. Unless a very famous person is buried there, or the cemetery has some kind of reputation, you're not going to find a lot of people there. Unfortunately, because most cemeteries are so isolated, a lot of teenagers and other young people use them as a place to party. This leads to vandalism and littering most of the time. I DO NOT condone partying or vandalism in cemeteries, I find such behavior deplorable.
When I take my loved ones to cemeteries, I find that the quietness makes it easier for us to enjoy each other's company. Surrounded by tombstones, I've had deep, meaningful conversations with my companions. There aren't any distractions in a cemetery, even if it's near a busy road or in the middle of civilization. Entering a cemetery can be a lot like entering another realm. Once inside, nothing matters but you and whoever you're with. You can discuss a lot of things, be honest, be yourself. A cemetery isn't like a club, you're not going to find pretentious hipsters judging your every move, just a lot of silent dead people and maybe a caretaker.
2. Cemeteries Can Be Interesting
Most people assume that cemeteries are boring places, but more often than not, I'll take someone to a cemetery, and they'll find themselves utterly fascinated by the monuments and their, epitaphs, carvings and statues. They'll comment on names, dates, and the items people leave on gravestones. They ask questions, questions I love answering. And while they may not become full-blown taphophiles like myself, my cemetery companions are at least briefly interested in a passion that is so near and dear to me.
3. You Can See Interesting Wildlife
Animals can adapt to pretty much any environment. We see birds nesting in buildings, squirrels climbing telephone wires and skunks raiding dumpsters. And as I've often seen, animals live quite comfortably in cemeteries, especially the park style of cemetery made popular in the 19th century. It's a lot of fun taking friends to a graveyard and admiring all the different types of animals that inhabit the area. I've seen squirrels leaping around, climbing trees and sitting on gravestones. I've seen plenty of birds, especially crows, perched on monuments. Once my boyfriend and I saw a little frog in Oak Hill cemetery. He's from New Jersey, and that frog was the first live frog he'd ever seen.
Domestic animals also get in on the game. I can't tell you how many times I've strolled through a cemetery just to find a house cat, sauntering between the headstones, or napping on the flat monuments. These cemetery cats always have this look, like they own the place, and they're patrolling the grounds, making sure nothing, supernatural or otherwise is disturbing the peace. It makes sense. Cats used to be considered guardians of the Afterlife.
4. Great Dog Walking
This is a touchy subject, seeing as most cemeteries forbid dogs. This is because dogs have a tendency to poop, and their owners have a tendency to not pick up after them.
But, if you're a responsible dog walker, who follows the laws regarding leashes and plastic baggies, then cemeteries, especially large ones are great places to take Rover for a jaunt. My Aunt Michelle and I take her charming Goldendoodle, Izzy to plenty of cemeteries, and it's down right pleasant. Izzy loves it. There's lots of new things to sniff, room to run around, and if your dog gets thirsty, you can just turn on one of the spigots used to water flowers. I wouldn't recommend going on a cemetery doggy walk however, if your pooch doesn't follow commands really well, since there's nothing worse than a loose dog in a cemetery. Except maybe loose teenagers in a cemetery.
5. Cemeteries Are Just Awesome
Let's face it. Cemeteries are actually really cool places. You can learn a lot about society, culture and history just by looking at a cemetery. While yes, sometimes they can be spooky, they can be fun too, and sometimes that spookiness is part of the fun, especially around Halloween. Don't hesitate. Grab some friends, some family, and explore your local cemetery! You'll be surprised about how much you'll enjoy yourselves.
But on a somber note, if you do go to a cemetery, PLEASE treat the place with respect. That means no drinking, littering, vandalism. This is sacred ground. How would you feel if a bunch of assholes destroyed the graves of your loved ones, for no reason other than that they were bored or drunk? You'd feel like shit, wouldn't you? You'd be hurt, and angry. So before you kick over that gravestone, or tag it with graffiti, think about the person buried there, and the people they left behind who loved them. It doesn't matter if it's an old slate stone from the 18th century, a faded marble stone from the 19th century or a brand new shiny granite monument. That grave still belongs to a person. A person just like you. So have a heart.
And if that speech didn't dissuade you from your path of destruction, then maybe this will. Vandalism is illegal. It is illegal, and you will most likely be caught.
Monday, January 24, 2011
Fear, Fascination and Love- How I became a Taphophile
I am a taphophile. That is, I love cemeteries, tombs, gravestones etc. Don't let the suffix, -phile mislead you, for my passion is of a non-sexual nature. I am, however, often reluctant to use the term 'taphophile', for fear of misinterpretation of its meaning, by those who may not understand the term. When discussing my hobby, I just say "I am a cemetery enthusiast".
A lot of people don't understand my attraction to cemeteries, and frankly I don't understand why I love them, either. For you see, when I was a child, I was terrified of graveyards.
One of my earliest memories involves my mother taking me to a cemetery in Bristol, VT. I must have been two or three. I wasn't afraid, being too young to know what a cemetery was. It didn't occur to me that there were dead people under my feet. As far as I was concerned, those big stone things were for climbing. I recall attempting to scale an obelisk, only to have Mom pluck me off the monument.
As I got older, and I learned what cemeteries were, I developed a mild phobia of cemeteries, mixed with fascination. When one of my older sisters made me take a shortcut through a cemetery I was terrified, not because I was afraid of ghosts (the idea that a cemetery could be haunted never even crossed my mind), but because I was walking on dead people. I remember being disturbed by the sight of a baby's gravestone, shaped like a teddy bear.
When my sisters told me to hold my breath whenever we passed a cemetery, and keep holding my breath until we saw a white house, I complied, even though they never told me why I should hold my breath.
But it wasn't all fright and superstition. There were laughs, too. For as long as I can remember, every time we'd drive past a graveyard my Dad would point and say, "Hey kids, people are dying to get in there,". No matter how old the joke got, I always insisted on hearing it.
In the fifth grade, the special Civil War class I was taking (the school I was attending did elective classes, such as drama, or French. You signed up on a first come first serve basis) took a trip to a cemetery in Burlington. We were looking for the graves of Union generals and soldiers and I took the entire adventure very seriously. I prayed at the graves we visited and even scolded the ear off of a classmate who broke a child's gravestone by sitting on it. I remember the grave that he had broken had a lamb statue on it, and was in the segregated African American section of the cemetery. I remember our teacher (who was also the school sheriff) explaining to us that this part of the cemetery was in bad shape, because of racism.
Around the age of 10, while reading up on ghosts, I finally figured out that cemeteries could be haunted. I reacted to this idea with fear and curiosity. I wanted to go to a cemetery and conjure up some ghosts. As I grew up, my fear of cemeteries turned into a fascination. When my 7th grade social studies class went on a field trip to a local cemetery too look for the graves of notable historical citizens, I was so excited I didn't even bother doing our assignment, I just wandered around in a state of joy.
For a long time, cemetery visits were a rarity. I vaguely recall visiting a small 19th century cemetery in Willsboro, NY one humid July 4th, but other than that, my curiosity went unsatisfied.
It wasn't until I moved to Bellows Falls VT, that I started to become a full blown taphophile. I loved going to cemeteries now, dragging friends along with me. When I couldn't find anyone to join me, I'd go by myself, though I felt uncomfortable doing so, due to a slight fear of ghosts.
One day, in fall of 2007, I happened upon a website named Grave Addiction. It was like the heavens had opened up and shone down upon me. Not only could I enjoy cemeteries from all over the country without having to leave my house, but I had gleaned some very important knowledge. I was not alone. There were others like me out there. Other people who shared a deep passion for cemeteries, funerals and the fine art of mourning. Beth's website inspired me to fully embrace my love for graveyards and, what started as a fascination became a part of my identity. When I go on long road trips, I count how many cemeteries we drive by. I walk long distances just to visit a favorite graveyard.
And yet, the old fears never left me. I still won't go into cemeteries at night, at least not by myself. I don't know where this particular phobia came from, but it seems to stem more from a primeval fear of the dark, of the unknown, than the cemetery itself. There could be anything hiding in the gloom- ghosts, monsters, psycho murderers, Snooki.
I also can't go into certain cemeteries by myself, even in the daytime. For instance, I've had so many paranormal experiences in Oak Hill cemetery in Bellows Falls VT, that I just won't go in there alone (though I've still had some eerie experiences even with a companion). I'm working on this fear, by daring myself to go into creepy cemeteries on my own. I've even developed a mantra to help me "The dead can't hurt me. It's the living I've got to fear".
How did I go from being afraid of cemeteries, to loving them? How can I both fear and love something? I've gone over this again and again. Why do I love cemeteries? Why am I so fascinated by the macabre? Why am I so drawn to death, despite my fears? Is it my fear that attracts me? There aren't any simple answers, I'm afraid. Nothing that I can interpret from my brain to the keyboard (curse you, Non-verbal Learning Disorder! Curse you!), at least. I think the best I can do, is stop thinking about the why of things, and just enjoy being a taphophile.
A lot of people don't understand my attraction to cemeteries, and frankly I don't understand why I love them, either. For you see, when I was a child, I was terrified of graveyards.
One of my earliest memories involves my mother taking me to a cemetery in Bristol, VT. I must have been two or three. I wasn't afraid, being too young to know what a cemetery was. It didn't occur to me that there were dead people under my feet. As far as I was concerned, those big stone things were for climbing. I recall attempting to scale an obelisk, only to have Mom pluck me off the monument.
As I got older, and I learned what cemeteries were, I developed a mild phobia of cemeteries, mixed with fascination. When one of my older sisters made me take a shortcut through a cemetery I was terrified, not because I was afraid of ghosts (the idea that a cemetery could be haunted never even crossed my mind), but because I was walking on dead people. I remember being disturbed by the sight of a baby's gravestone, shaped like a teddy bear.
When my sisters told me to hold my breath whenever we passed a cemetery, and keep holding my breath until we saw a white house, I complied, even though they never told me why I should hold my breath.
But it wasn't all fright and superstition. There were laughs, too. For as long as I can remember, every time we'd drive past a graveyard my Dad would point and say, "Hey kids, people are dying to get in there,". No matter how old the joke got, I always insisted on hearing it.
In the fifth grade, the special Civil War class I was taking (the school I was attending did elective classes, such as drama, or French. You signed up on a first come first serve basis) took a trip to a cemetery in Burlington. We were looking for the graves of Union generals and soldiers and I took the entire adventure very seriously. I prayed at the graves we visited and even scolded the ear off of a classmate who broke a child's gravestone by sitting on it. I remember the grave that he had broken had a lamb statue on it, and was in the segregated African American section of the cemetery. I remember our teacher (who was also the school sheriff) explaining to us that this part of the cemetery was in bad shape, because of racism.
Around the age of 10, while reading up on ghosts, I finally figured out that cemeteries could be haunted. I reacted to this idea with fear and curiosity. I wanted to go to a cemetery and conjure up some ghosts. As I grew up, my fear of cemeteries turned into a fascination. When my 7th grade social studies class went on a field trip to a local cemetery too look for the graves of notable historical citizens, I was so excited I didn't even bother doing our assignment, I just wandered around in a state of joy.
For a long time, cemetery visits were a rarity. I vaguely recall visiting a small 19th century cemetery in Willsboro, NY one humid July 4th, but other than that, my curiosity went unsatisfied.
It wasn't until I moved to Bellows Falls VT, that I started to become a full blown taphophile. I loved going to cemeteries now, dragging friends along with me. When I couldn't find anyone to join me, I'd go by myself, though I felt uncomfortable doing so, due to a slight fear of ghosts.
One day, in fall of 2007, I happened upon a website named Grave Addiction. It was like the heavens had opened up and shone down upon me. Not only could I enjoy cemeteries from all over the country without having to leave my house, but I had gleaned some very important knowledge. I was not alone. There were others like me out there. Other people who shared a deep passion for cemeteries, funerals and the fine art of mourning. Beth's website inspired me to fully embrace my love for graveyards and, what started as a fascination became a part of my identity. When I go on long road trips, I count how many cemeteries we drive by. I walk long distances just to visit a favorite graveyard.
And yet, the old fears never left me. I still won't go into cemeteries at night, at least not by myself. I don't know where this particular phobia came from, but it seems to stem more from a primeval fear of the dark, of the unknown, than the cemetery itself. There could be anything hiding in the gloom- ghosts, monsters, psycho murderers, Snooki.
I also can't go into certain cemeteries by myself, even in the daytime. For instance, I've had so many paranormal experiences in Oak Hill cemetery in Bellows Falls VT, that I just won't go in there alone (though I've still had some eerie experiences even with a companion). I'm working on this fear, by daring myself to go into creepy cemeteries on my own. I've even developed a mantra to help me "The dead can't hurt me. It's the living I've got to fear".
How did I go from being afraid of cemeteries, to loving them? How can I both fear and love something? I've gone over this again and again. Why do I love cemeteries? Why am I so fascinated by the macabre? Why am I so drawn to death, despite my fears? Is it my fear that attracts me? There aren't any simple answers, I'm afraid. Nothing that I can interpret from my brain to the keyboard (curse you, Non-verbal Learning Disorder! Curse you!), at least. I think the best I can do, is stop thinking about the why of things, and just enjoy being a taphophile.
Tuesday, January 18, 2011
My Weirdest Cemetery Experiences
I love cemeteries. Really, I do. During spring, summer and fall, I visit them as often as I can. Most of these visits are pleasant, relaxing even. I see interesting gravestones, and sometimes spot wildlife. But every so often, while I'm taking in the tombs, something completely bizarre will happen.
In this blog, I will describe the six weirdest things that have ever happened me in a cemetery. I've probably got more than six, but these are the ones I remember. Each one will be given a rating of 1-10, 1 being "A Little Odd" and ten being "Completely Fucking Bizarre". Enjoy...
1. The Peacocks
One day, in the summer 0f 2007, I was walking through Restland Cemetery, in Bellows Falls, VT. By the fence on the far side of the cemetery, I saw a large white shape. The first thought that came to my mind was that I was seeing a ghost. So I started to move towards it, to get a better look.
It wasn't a ghost. It was an albino peacock! Behind it, was another, smaller peacock, a female, though not albino. I know what you're thinking. Peacocks? In a Vermont cemetery? Astounded, I ran out of the cemetery and down the street to my friends Lauren's house. I needed a second witness, to prove that I wasn't hallucinating. Lauren wasn't home, but her Uncle was and he went out to the cemetery with me, to take a look. We stood at the fence near the gate, and I pointed out the two birds. No, I wasn't hallucinating. Yes, those were peacocks. Probably somebody's pets, he reasoned. I thanked him, and went back into the cemetery. I continued to watch the peacocks, hiding behind a large monument so as not to startle them. At some point, a man and a woman about my age took a shortcut through the graveyard, walking right past the peacocks. They didn't seem to notice the two exotic birds that were less than ten feet away from them. They were oblivious, much to my surprise. In the 4 years since, I never saw those peacocks again, though I've been to Restland hundreds of times. On a scale of 1 to 10 in the Weirdness, this experience was a 10. Completely Fucking Bizarre.
2. The Impromptu Concert
Another summer day, this time in 2008. I was taking a walk, when I noticed I was being followed by two girls who I had had some problems with in high school. Paranoid, I tried to evade them. I turned onto the street that led to St. Immanuel Episcopal cemetery, also in Bellows Falls, VT. They continued to follow me. Starting to feel a little bit nervous (understatement of the century), I entered the cemetery, hoping they wouldn't follow me in there. But just being in the little churchyard wasn't good enough. They'd still see me in the older section, so I started to climb the steep hill up into the more hidden new section of St. Immanuel's, which has a scattering of new headstones and a memorial garden. I could have taken the asphalt path that led up there, but I was panicking, and not thinking so clearly as a result. Once I reached the top of the hill, I was treated to the site of two men playing drums and the didgeridoo. I was surprised, but not frightened. These were just two men playing music, not two teenage girls with a grudge. So I plopped down onto the grass and listened to the impromptu concert. When they finished playing, I talked to the two gentleman for a little bit. They proved to be very polite and pleasant company.
On a scale of 1-10 this little episode was about a 6. It was weird, but considering the fact that I live in VT, not terribly uncommon.
3. The Crow Wing
I was in Old South Church Cemetery, in Windsor, VT, in April of 2010 when I stumbled across a rather grisly sight. At the base of an early 19th century gravestone, lay a dismembered bird wing. A large one. I suspected it was a crow. It had been torn off at the joint, probably by a predator. I looked around for other bird parts, but only the wing remained. Curious, I took a stick and flipped the wing over, to check the feathers for markings. Glossy black feathers, but no markings. It probably belonged to a crow or a raven. I assumed it was a crow, because there were a whole bunch of them in the trees above me. And that's where it gets weird (as if finding a dismembered crow wing wasn't weird enough). As soon as I had moved the wing, the living birds above my head began to squawk angrily at me, as if scolding me for disturbing that wing. I apologized, and moved the wing back into the position I found it (using the stick, I never touch a wild animal carcass with my bare hands). When I went to the cemetery the next day, the wing was gone, probably carried off by a scavenger.
I give this one about a 5. It was sinister, it was creepy, but bits of dead animals are a part of nature.
4. The Cemetery Gnome
In either late summer or early fall of 2010, I was wandering Restland Cemetery when I stumbled across a garden gnome. A garden gnome. It looked like a vintage one too, sitting at the base of a 19th century headstone. Where the hell did it come from? Amused, I snapped a picture of it on my camera. A few weeks later, I showed the picture to some acquaintances. When I went to the cemetery again, the gnome was gone. Was it stolen? Did it just get up and walk away? My guess is the former, but I'll never know. All in all the experience was about an 8. It was just weird.
5. Robert Frost's Tupperware.
On the eve of my twentieth birthday, my mother and I were driving to my aunt's house in NY. We passed through Bennington, VT, and as a treat, my mom stopped to take me to the Old Bennington Cemetery. Robert Frost is buried there, and the first thing we did, was find his grave. As we paid our respects, I noticed an empty Tupperware container sitting next to his grave. Where did it come from? Did somebody have a picnic and just leave it behind? Odd. I'm giving this one a 1. It's weird, but not as weird as the gnome.
6. Squirrel Attack
Once again, we find ourselves in Old South Church Cemetery. So here I am, walking under some pine trees by the cold storage crypt when I hear a loud thump behind me. Assuming it's a ghost, I scream and jump about a foot in the air. But there were no ghosts here. Just a pine cone. A pine cone had fallen and nearly hit me. I look up, and sitting in the tree is a squirrel, screaming indignantly at me. Had the squirrel thrown the pine cone at me? Probably not. But the thought's a funny one. I give it a 1. It's really not so much weird, as it was hilarious.
In this blog, I will describe the six weirdest things that have ever happened me in a cemetery. I've probably got more than six, but these are the ones I remember. Each one will be given a rating of 1-10, 1 being "A Little Odd" and ten being "Completely Fucking Bizarre". Enjoy...
1. The Peacocks
One day, in the summer 0f 2007, I was walking through Restland Cemetery, in Bellows Falls, VT. By the fence on the far side of the cemetery, I saw a large white shape. The first thought that came to my mind was that I was seeing a ghost. So I started to move towards it, to get a better look.
It wasn't a ghost. It was an albino peacock! Behind it, was another, smaller peacock, a female, though not albino. I know what you're thinking. Peacocks? In a Vermont cemetery? Astounded, I ran out of the cemetery and down the street to my friends Lauren's house. I needed a second witness, to prove that I wasn't hallucinating. Lauren wasn't home, but her Uncle was and he went out to the cemetery with me, to take a look. We stood at the fence near the gate, and I pointed out the two birds. No, I wasn't hallucinating. Yes, those were peacocks. Probably somebody's pets, he reasoned. I thanked him, and went back into the cemetery. I continued to watch the peacocks, hiding behind a large monument so as not to startle them. At some point, a man and a woman about my age took a shortcut through the graveyard, walking right past the peacocks. They didn't seem to notice the two exotic birds that were less than ten feet away from them. They were oblivious, much to my surprise. In the 4 years since, I never saw those peacocks again, though I've been to Restland hundreds of times. On a scale of 1 to 10 in the Weirdness, this experience was a 10. Completely Fucking Bizarre.
2. The Impromptu Concert
Another summer day, this time in 2008. I was taking a walk, when I noticed I was being followed by two girls who I had had some problems with in high school. Paranoid, I tried to evade them. I turned onto the street that led to St. Immanuel Episcopal cemetery, also in Bellows Falls, VT. They continued to follow me. Starting to feel a little bit nervous (understatement of the century), I entered the cemetery, hoping they wouldn't follow me in there. But just being in the little churchyard wasn't good enough. They'd still see me in the older section, so I started to climb the steep hill up into the more hidden new section of St. Immanuel's, which has a scattering of new headstones and a memorial garden. I could have taken the asphalt path that led up there, but I was panicking, and not thinking so clearly as a result. Once I reached the top of the hill, I was treated to the site of two men playing drums and the didgeridoo. I was surprised, but not frightened. These were just two men playing music, not two teenage girls with a grudge. So I plopped down onto the grass and listened to the impromptu concert. When they finished playing, I talked to the two gentleman for a little bit. They proved to be very polite and pleasant company.
On a scale of 1-10 this little episode was about a 6. It was weird, but considering the fact that I live in VT, not terribly uncommon.
3. The Crow Wing
I was in Old South Church Cemetery, in Windsor, VT, in April of 2010 when I stumbled across a rather grisly sight. At the base of an early 19th century gravestone, lay a dismembered bird wing. A large one. I suspected it was a crow. It had been torn off at the joint, probably by a predator. I looked around for other bird parts, but only the wing remained. Curious, I took a stick and flipped the wing over, to check the feathers for markings. Glossy black feathers, but no markings. It probably belonged to a crow or a raven. I assumed it was a crow, because there were a whole bunch of them in the trees above me. And that's where it gets weird (as if finding a dismembered crow wing wasn't weird enough). As soon as I had moved the wing, the living birds above my head began to squawk angrily at me, as if scolding me for disturbing that wing. I apologized, and moved the wing back into the position I found it (using the stick, I never touch a wild animal carcass with my bare hands). When I went to the cemetery the next day, the wing was gone, probably carried off by a scavenger.
I give this one about a 5. It was sinister, it was creepy, but bits of dead animals are a part of nature.
4. The Cemetery Gnome
In either late summer or early fall of 2010, I was wandering Restland Cemetery when I stumbled across a garden gnome. A garden gnome. It looked like a vintage one too, sitting at the base of a 19th century headstone. Where the hell did it come from? Amused, I snapped a picture of it on my camera. A few weeks later, I showed the picture to some acquaintances. When I went to the cemetery again, the gnome was gone. Was it stolen? Did it just get up and walk away? My guess is the former, but I'll never know. All in all the experience was about an 8. It was just weird.
5. Robert Frost's Tupperware.
On the eve of my twentieth birthday, my mother and I were driving to my aunt's house in NY. We passed through Bennington, VT, and as a treat, my mom stopped to take me to the Old Bennington Cemetery. Robert Frost is buried there, and the first thing we did, was find his grave. As we paid our respects, I noticed an empty Tupperware container sitting next to his grave. Where did it come from? Did somebody have a picnic and just leave it behind? Odd. I'm giving this one a 1. It's weird, but not as weird as the gnome.
6. Squirrel Attack
Once again, we find ourselves in Old South Church Cemetery. So here I am, walking under some pine trees by the cold storage crypt when I hear a loud thump behind me. Assuming it's a ghost, I scream and jump about a foot in the air. But there were no ghosts here. Just a pine cone. A pine cone had fallen and nearly hit me. I look up, and sitting in the tree is a squirrel, screaming indignantly at me. Had the squirrel thrown the pine cone at me? Probably not. But the thought's a funny one. I give it a 1. It's really not so much weird, as it was hilarious.
Friday, April 17, 2009
Back to normal blogging
After that lengthy memoir, which I'm sure none of you read, I'm quite pleased to return to my old method of blogging. But with a new feature- The Image Macro of the Day!
I'm not writing this blog for anyone's pleasure but mine. Here, I can rant, share memoirs and hone my writing skills. If someone comes across it and enjoys my work, that's fine, it will give me some small joy in my life.
So many people write solely for page views and drama. But I write for the joy of it. My mind is filled with many tumbling and rumbling thoughts, dancing in my skull. Yet my memory is like sieve. Often I will lose these great thoughts, in that great river made of lost memories and ideas. I must harness these thoughts by blogging them, a reservoir of sorts.
I want to become a better writer. I want my ideas to come across clearly. I want to write stories that make people think, that make people feel. I want to write things that are beautiful and disturbing, I want people to question their world after reading my books. I am greatly inspired by Stephen King.
I have other life goals. One of which is to visit every single known cemetery in the state of Vermont. So far, I've been to five of the cemeteries in Bellow's Falls, one in Burlington, one in Bristol, one in Swanton, one in Windsor, one in Lyndonville and one in Bennington. I just noticed three out of six of these towns begin with the letter B. The ones in Bristol and Burlington, I visited as a child. The rest I have visited in my teens, with the exception of Bennington. I visited that one the day before my birthday, thus making it the first cemetery I visited on the cusp of my twenties.
That's right, I suppose I'm in my early twenties now. I turned 20 last Tuesday. Most people my age look to this as a time of great change. Not so, with I. I felt the last of my childhood slip from my fingers, on April the 14th. The days of innocence and freedom from logic are forever locked in the archives of memory, only taken out to be mused upon, never to be relived. I am no longer a child, not even close, I am a woman now. A woman, what do you suppose that means? What does in mean to be a woman? Women are the bearers of life, but not all women bear children, women are the owners of wisdom, but not all women are wise. To be a woman is a complicated quilt. We dance the complex dance between weakness and strength, domination and submission. To some we are considered helpless, to others we are considered tyrants.
Women cannot be categorized. Everyone has tried to put women into neat little categories, but like cats, we cannot stay in one place for too long.
You may notice that I leap from subject to subject, like crossing a river by jumping rock to rock. Free writing is a favored method of mine.
Macro of the Day:
I'm not writing this blog for anyone's pleasure but mine. Here, I can rant, share memoirs and hone my writing skills. If someone comes across it and enjoys my work, that's fine, it will give me some small joy in my life.
So many people write solely for page views and drama. But I write for the joy of it. My mind is filled with many tumbling and rumbling thoughts, dancing in my skull. Yet my memory is like sieve. Often I will lose these great thoughts, in that great river made of lost memories and ideas. I must harness these thoughts by blogging them, a reservoir of sorts.
I want to become a better writer. I want my ideas to come across clearly. I want to write stories that make people think, that make people feel. I want to write things that are beautiful and disturbing, I want people to question their world after reading my books. I am greatly inspired by Stephen King.
I have other life goals. One of which is to visit every single known cemetery in the state of Vermont. So far, I've been to five of the cemeteries in Bellow's Falls, one in Burlington, one in Bristol, one in Swanton, one in Windsor, one in Lyndonville and one in Bennington. I just noticed three out of six of these towns begin with the letter B. The ones in Bristol and Burlington, I visited as a child. The rest I have visited in my teens, with the exception of Bennington. I visited that one the day before my birthday, thus making it the first cemetery I visited on the cusp of my twenties.
That's right, I suppose I'm in my early twenties now. I turned 20 last Tuesday. Most people my age look to this as a time of great change. Not so, with I. I felt the last of my childhood slip from my fingers, on April the 14th. The days of innocence and freedom from logic are forever locked in the archives of memory, only taken out to be mused upon, never to be relived. I am no longer a child, not even close, I am a woman now. A woman, what do you suppose that means? What does in mean to be a woman? Women are the bearers of life, but not all women bear children, women are the owners of wisdom, but not all women are wise. To be a woman is a complicated quilt. We dance the complex dance between weakness and strength, domination and submission. To some we are considered helpless, to others we are considered tyrants.
Women cannot be categorized. Everyone has tried to put women into neat little categories, but like cats, we cannot stay in one place for too long.
You may notice that I leap from subject to subject, like crossing a river by jumping rock to rock. Free writing is a favored method of mine.
Macro of the Day:
Sunday, March 22, 2009
The Random Observations of the Day
- Today on CNN I saw a some news about a plane crash in a cemetery. I love cemeteries. In fact, I'm very passionate about this hobby of mine. So, I hear about this crash and the first thing I think is: "Oh dear, I hope none of the headstones were broken or damaged."
What the fuck is wrong with me? People are killed in a deadly crash, and all I can think about is the condition of gravestones? Not to say I don't feel bad for the victims and the families, this is the third big plane crash of the year. Disasters like this are very sad. But sometimes, it's hard to grasp them, to understand them if you're only seeing them in the toxic glow of a television screen. So, is it only natural, instead of facing the tragedy of loss of life, I fret about something that may be significant to me, but on a grand scale, quite the opposite.
-I went to see Coraline today. It was a five o' clock showing and people had brought their families. I missed the opening credits (like I did the first time I saw it) because people were taking so damn long in the concession line.
So I finally get in the theater. I'm getting into the story, enjoying the animation, and what do you know? Some small children start to chatter and continue to chatter throughout the film.
Film critics had warned parents about the film, because of the scary images present near the end. It's based off of a novel by Neil Gaiman, author of the Sandman graphic novel series, so naturally there WILL be some disturbing features.
So by the second half of the film, when the film starts to get a little eerie, I start to hear the soft whimpers and sobs of frightened children. Way to go, Mom and Dad, your kid is going to have nightmares tonight because you assumed that because Coraline is an animated film, that makes it appropriate for the ENTIRE family. WRONG. Just because something is animated, doesn't mean the kiddies can see it, haven't you ever seen a Japanese Hentai?
- Today is the Vernal Equinox. In other words, the first day of Spring. And how's the weather where I'm living? Cold. Cold and Windy.
What the fuck is wrong with me? People are killed in a deadly crash, and all I can think about is the condition of gravestones? Not to say I don't feel bad for the victims and the families, this is the third big plane crash of the year. Disasters like this are very sad. But sometimes, it's hard to grasp them, to understand them if you're only seeing them in the toxic glow of a television screen. So, is it only natural, instead of facing the tragedy of loss of life, I fret about something that may be significant to me, but on a grand scale, quite the opposite.
-I went to see Coraline today. It was a five o' clock showing and people had brought their families. I missed the opening credits (like I did the first time I saw it) because people were taking so damn long in the concession line.
So I finally get in the theater. I'm getting into the story, enjoying the animation, and what do you know? Some small children start to chatter and continue to chatter throughout the film.
Film critics had warned parents about the film, because of the scary images present near the end. It's based off of a novel by Neil Gaiman, author of the Sandman graphic novel series, so naturally there WILL be some disturbing features.
So by the second half of the film, when the film starts to get a little eerie, I start to hear the soft whimpers and sobs of frightened children. Way to go, Mom and Dad, your kid is going to have nightmares tonight because you assumed that because Coraline is an animated film, that makes it appropriate for the ENTIRE family. WRONG. Just because something is animated, doesn't mean the kiddies can see it, haven't you ever seen a Japanese Hentai?
- Today is the Vernal Equinox. In other words, the first day of Spring. And how's the weather where I'm living? Cold. Cold and Windy.
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