A summer view…

There is quite a bit of history, here in Putnam County, New York.  Those living down county, closer to Manhattan often call this “upstate” but we are barely at the tip of what is truly…upstate New York and the majestic beauty which lies beyond the Catskill Mountains up to the Adirondacks.  Yet, it is, at times, a lovely country atmosphere, even as development continues to encroach our area, and, for some, not enough growth to impact our rising taxes.

Regardless of any season, the views are often spectacular.  Colors which awaken each Spring.  The Autumn kaleidoscope painted when Fall arrives then,  the gentle coating of the first snowfall as nature takes its winter nap. But, Summer…long, lazy days mixed with sudden downpours and the inevitable heat and humidity.  These few months of lounging through outdoor activities will soon end as we cycle through one more year. 

This marker stands in place to denote the Carver Bridge.  It sits alongside Route 301, at the intersection with Belden Road, just before the causeway that leads over West Branch Reservoir. 

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It reads:  Cut stone with wood deck, Timothy Carver, first Supervisor of the Town of Carmel, drowned there in 1824.  The former bridge is now under 50 feet of water, one half mile to the south.

 

I give due credit to my daughter for capturing this beautiful summer view along the Route 301 Causeway.  I think Timothy Carver would approve.

 

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workshop-button-1 My response to Mama Kat’s weekly writing prompt…”Your favorite summer view so far”

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Broken…

“Look past the brokenness of others-because, quite frankly, we are all beautifully broken.”

This reached out to me after a friend’s post recently.  Although I’m not very religious, there was just something about so much of what’s behind these simple words.

Life can break us in ways large and small.   The damage may lie deep within, hidden from others who are often quick to judge what they cannot see.   Being, and staying, broken leaves us hurt, angry, and confused. Being broken open leads to self-awareness, empathy, and compassion.   Ultimately, it leads to healing, always for ourselves and sometimes for others.

Ernest Hemingway wrote in his novel A Farewell to Arms: “The world breaks everyone and afterward many are strong in the broken places.” Not only are some strong there . . . some are down right beautiful.

Be beautiful, broken, wonderful, whole, and help someone else with your hope and love.

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From Mama Kat’s Writing Prompts….Write a post in exactly 11 lines. 

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Those sticks and stones….

Wow….Mama Kat’s Writer’s Workshop came up with a good one this week in a list of writing prompt ideas….The last time someone called you a name.

 

I laughed to myself and thought it would be more difficult to write about when someone didn’t call me a name! 

Let me expand on that.

First, a little self name-calling here…I tend to be a bitch.  Fairly well educated, accomplished, decent dresser, great cook but…terribly bitchy.  Hey, I’m the first to acknowledge what I am and I do it well.  I’ve earned this title!

But, harsh words coming from another direction well, that’s something else entirely.  Whether in a moment of heated discussion or any other situation, being the recipient of a nasty name can cut into your soul like a knife.  I’m guessing what hurts the most is your realization that others see you in some type of tarnished light, depending on whatever confrontation is involved.  Then again, there are people who thrive on name-calling in some effort to hold power over another.

What this brings me to are words that have stayed embedded in a corner of my mind since childhood and more than any derisive comment which has been thrown at me over the years.  Growing-up and frequently hearing “you’re just a dumb, stupid kid” from my late father have left their impact.  To this day, if I fudge some task I’m working on or make a big mistake (which happens often), his jabbing words come back like ghosts that haunt me.  Depending on the circumstance,  I’ll mutter to myself how dumb and stupid I’ve been.

Whether ignorance along with some willful bad parenting is the culprit,  calling names, in any form, leaves a lifelong hurt.   We yell at our children or call them names wrapped in negative connotations to try to get them to stop doing things we don’t like.  We make them feel bad about themselves or with whatever situation they are involved in.  And yes, I’m guilty of doing the same to my children during their formative years.  Children learn what they live and there is absolutely no excuse for perpetuating the unacceptable behaviors of one’s past.

So, the last time someone called me a name?   I did.  Just now.  Don’t ask.

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