**This work was written based on a dream I had almost twenty years ago. It reflects on the last twenty years in therapy, and my momentous occasion of closing therapy just this past week in a positive and gracious manner, saying good bye with dignity, pride, and gratitude. It also reflects on the integration of my child/children within and my adult being. May this offer light to those in need, discovered through time.
This popped up today, out of the blue. I had no idea where it was leading me, I simply let it out.
The Old Picket Fence / by George Albert Leddy “Tear down the Old Picket Fence,” you say / Well no, I guess I’ll let it stay / I’ll patch it up and paint it white / I guess I’ll make it look alright / You see, that old fence means to me / A whole lot more than you can see / It speaks to me of things I knew / When fields were green and skies were blue It speaks to me of long ago / And yet it seems but yesterday / Just Ma, and me, and Little Joe / Our Little Joe just turning three / He had to have a place to play / Where he’d be safe and wouldn’t stray / And so I built that fence for him / A sort’o place to keep him in And in the spring a tiny shoot / Peeped from the earth to seek the sun / It seemed to know the picket fence / Would make a place for vines to run / And o’er that fence, so white and clean / It spread a wealth of verdant green / It seemed to know it held a grace / To help to beautify the place And very soon in brilliant hue / Violet and rose, and pink and blue / As if to meet the coming day / The Morning Glories held full-sway / And as the warm June days drew nigh / A tiny rosebud caught my eye / And soon the Roses, rich and rare / Sent their sweet fragrance on the air Then later came our Little Sue / Then Mary Jane, then Little Bill / Then Little Ruth, who couldn’t stay / She sleeps out-yonder on the hill / We used to gather there each eve / We felt she’d like to have us near / But Mother’s sleeping with her now / I’ve been alone for nigh a year I see it now, that fence so white / The Morning Glories all abloom / The babes we loved a-playing there / The Roses in the month of June / And Mother waiting by the gate / To greet me at the close of day / To tell me all the pretty things / That she had heard the babies say Ah yes, I see it all again / The yard is strewn with baby toys / The swing beneath the Maple tree / The dolls for girls, the carts for boys / The happy children there at play / The children, now, all gone away / Ah yes, I guess that we must be / Content with life’s sweet memories I know we’re getting pretty old / That fence and me, we’ve had our day / So just a little loving care / To keep us happy while we stay / I’ll patch it up and paint it white / I guess I’ll make it look alright (photo shot in Danville, Illinois, 5/21/09)
The Rcmp St. Roch in Vancouver My Father is second from the left Royal Canadian Mounted Police St. Roch 1940-1942 / Launched in 1928, the schooner St. Roch served to resupply Arctic outposts of the Royal Canadian Mounted Police, sailing the Northwest Passage from west to east in an historic 28 month voyage (1940-1942). Sailed from Halifax to Vancouver in 86 days in 1944. Taken out of service in 1954 and preserved as a museum ship. Our father served on this ship . In line of ordinary duty, eight Royal Canadian Mounted Policemen and an 80-ton auxiliary schooner made the first west-to-east water voyage through America’s cold, difficult, twisting Northwest Passage. Landing on the Atlantic coast last week, two and a quarter years after they left the Pacific, the men neither expected, asked for, nor got leave. Sergeant Henry Larsen, their leader, brushed off compliments on his extraordinary feat with the remark that other trips had been harder. The crew of the St. Roch set out in June 1940 to: 1) take the schooner from Vancouver to Halifax for patrol duty in the Atlantic; 2) supply the permanent Mounted Police arctic posts along the way; 3) take the Eskimo census. Before they reached Sydney, N.S., the tough team and the tough ship had backtracked Explorer Roald Amundsen’s famous three-year east-to-west trip across America’s top. They had added valuable information to the world’s expandingly accurate geography, survived the Arctic’s most treacherous dangers, dutifully performed their assigned tasks. After leaving Vancouver, the St. Roch rounded Alaska, entered Beaufort Sea, touched Baillie Island, went on to Cambridge Bay. She turned back to winter in Walker Bay, on the midwest coast of giant, icebound Victoria Island, went on in the spring. In August 1941, the St. Roch and her crew nosed their indomitable way from Cambridge Bay into the unknown water wasteland of Pasley Bay. Dropping anchor in a storm to save themselves from reefs, they were caught for eleven months when open water turned suddenly to eight feet of ice. “We struck a very bad season,” said Sergeant Larsen, whose idea of a good season would frighten most men to death. The men blasted huge ice floes and icebergs threatening the uniquely tough hull of the St. Roch, which was copper sheathed and overlaid with ice-resisting Australian ironbark. The St. Roch stayed upright and whole when ice crashing by lifted her straight up out of the water. But except for the vivid moments of danger, Pasley was dull. No liquor was drunk, no poker allowed. The men did the ship’s chores, studied Eskimo dialects, read. The library was ample, largely stories of tropic exploration to while away the dark, endlessly cold nights. Larsen mostly read his collection of all the printed books and papers of all the explorers who had tried to find the Northwest Passage.
This is a 35MM photo taken in 1976 of my beloved Irish Setter Sammy running away with my glove. He loved to take it and have me chase him to get it back. Sammy is another dog my late Mom Vickie rescued along with his brothers Donovan and Red. Owners had too many dogs so Mom took three of them in. Photo taken at our ranch in Gilroy, California area. We grew, cut and baled hay in the background. The 1936 22 Cat was my Dad’s favorite tractor. Dennis, Dad and I restored and painted it in the early 1970s. We gave it to my sister Jeanie when we left the ranch and she still has it and it still runs. Ed
350,000 irish volunteers fought for the british army in the first world war. 1/10 of that number died and those who returned were largely shunned by the irish population in the shadow of anti-british sentiment after the execution of the leaders of the 1916 rising.In the 2nd world war Dublin was bombed on the 31st of may 1941 by the Germans. Was the intended target London or even Belfast? Or were the bombings deliberate reprisals for Irish help to the bombed city of Belfast? There is still some mystery sorrounding the bombings but whether deliberate or not 34 neutral Irish civilians died that night.
I consider myself a priveleged man to have been guided by two men in my early years. With pride and love I call one of those men Dad…..the other man, I often called George (Geordie) my father-in-law. A while back I found myself repeatedly whistling or humming a Scottish folk tune called “Marie’s Wedding”. It had not been in my head for the almost twenty years since George’s passing. He was fiercely proud of his Scottish heritage, and as a drummer, he was second to none. He would drum to this folk tune atop the kitchen table after one or three wee drams. When I finished writing this, I looked up from my desk to an otherwise empty room, and said “George, I hope this is what you wanted me to do….because I have almost had enough of that tune !” I was granted respite. Now, when that melody returns to me, I know there is something special in the air.
~images taken with my canon power shot s3 is FEATURED FEB. 21ST 09 IN LIVE, LOVE, AND DREAM / FEATURED FEB. 21ST 09 IN IMAGE IN WRITTING GROUP / FEATURED FEB. 25TH 09 IN REMEMER WHEN GROUP Oct. 28th 2007 Rancho Santa Fe, CA / The afternoon before the fire we were in the house, and I smelt smoke. My husband assured me that it wasn’t even close to us. / I looked outside, and could not see my hand in front of me and turned on the news. He was right. It wasn’t close to us, / but the smoke filled the air. The next morning we awoke to a phone call 6am from the Construction company ( who was in the process of building a 40 million dollar home and / already taken 4 years to build and has about 5 more months to go to finish this mansion which happen to be right next door) to tell us that / we should turn on the news because the fire has jumped the main road and is on the path of our estate we were managing and living in. At this point, we go outside to see what was going on, only to see soot fill the air and about an inch of it, on the ground for as far as you can see. / The pool looked like a sewer… There were live ambers in the air… So we want to get what we can into the cars because the call came.. REVERSE 911. / This means, you have to leave. We pack up the animals in the car with a suitcase of our close.. important papers that we could muster up.. and head out of town, not even knowing where / we were going. Everyone we called was either out already, or not home. I found a phone number of my friend who lives about 1 1/2 hours away / to find out she is out of town for about 4 days and left the key under the mat at her house and said to make our self at home.. So off to the mountains, / where the fires haven’t touched yet, we go… only to find out that there are 8 fires all around us and most of the main roads were closed.. Talk about / praying for your life.. We finally arrived at my friends house after about 6 hours… unload the pets and the car and thank God we got out. / Next my husband gets the call that the house was on fire and the work shop was down to the ground, along with 100 acres of land. The firemen were there, / but then went on to the next home. Tony thought all along, he shouldn’t have left the home, and off he went back to the house. Slipping by all the military / guards, he turned off his head lights and snuck back to the house to find flames all around starting up again from the 80 mile an hour winds. / He makes his way to the roof with a few hoses set up on each corner of the home.. running from one side to the next, for 3 days and night, this went on. / Jumping down and putting out the little fires that just would start up.. watching the $40 million dollar home next door start up in flames.. / Long story shorter… There were 8 homes on the street.. and only 2 were still standing after a 3 day fire.. The home we were in was one, thanx to Tony. / I didn’t sleep for 3 days.. calling him every 2 hours to make sure he didn’t fall asleep. No one knew he was there and if they saw him, they would kick / him out… When all was over we realized that in the work shop was all our sentimental things, that have been packed away.. ]wedding dress. baby pictures, / grandmas crystal.. Dads clock he bought for his mom when he was 11 years old.. from the money he saved from delivering papers door to door.. / Grandma gave it to me knowing I loved it and would play with it as a little girl.. it had a ballerina on it that turned around and had a music box with it.. / and trusted me to take care of it and hand it down from generation to generation… well, you get the picture of the items that were in there.. / I had a pity party for 3 day, alone, without a shoulder to cry on.. my friend would be home for 3 days, my husband risking his life on the roof of a home / that wasn’t even our own. Only to find out, after all is said and done, we are out of a home and both of us out of a job now. / At this point, I give it all to the Lord, and said o.k.. I am so excited to see what comes out of this.. / Now we have a wonderful job and which as a new home for us on the estate. Trust in the Lord with all your heart.. Lean not on your own understanding.. In all ways, acknowledge Him, and He will direct your path… Proverbs 3:5-6 Now, as for the sward in this image.. After the clean up crew came and the pile of ash was shoveled away, left was my Dad’s sward that was intact… / This rusty sward is so meaningful to me… I know Dad is looking down from above to say.. carry on.. it is just meaningless stuff… aftermath / / . / 4 days later, I return to see this.. still burning in a distance /
Tree + Fire = Stump We talk about spirit, about the spirit of Australians, we can also talk about the siprit of mother nature, this tree has been burnt and is totally gone however the grass only a few days after has returned. We live in a harsh land in one corner we have bushfires the worst in Australian history, in the other corner we have floods natural disaster zones. Man only if we could take the flood water and pour it on the fires and the rest in the damms, we would be right then. Only a dream. I chant for ya all AUSSIE AUSSIE AUSSIE.
I wrote this sometime ago,,before my Nan died,,i often read it now,, it reminds me of her so,,
From Secrets
About my childhood
Remembering / / The moments became hours / the hours became days / / We became other people / but always in the background We knew Someday / time would stop for us again To the stars that were once our night / Till Then… by Mary Campbell ©2009 If you want a card, mounted picture or poster with the poem click on the image Click below: Digital Art – Photomontage / Canon 5D
Seems like yesterday…........ / Man stepped on the Moon…...... / Woodstock Rocked….... / Free Love…......... / Maui Surfed…........ / acrylic on fabric / Original Available for sale…..... /
I used to love those little images as a kid where I would sit and color the puzzle to see what the image was. Remember those? They were always so much fun. I have to admit, this was a trip down memory lane. :o) This one will need the big click to see the cool textures. Created in Apophysis 3D. Postwork in Photoshop.
I was new? / When I was shiny and your favorite car? / When I ran like a top and I was blue? / When I went vroom and went quite far? Just a little fun with a little VW bug done in VW Bug Grunge. The popular way to create a car with lots of character. Great little cars with loads of personality. Irvine, CA at the regional VW Bug show. Featured in Color and Light
....this wasn’t them! / . / Remember Jeannie? / Well. This wasn’t she. / It was Samantha, at one of the school dances I ran. / This one was, of course, fancy dress. / / Samantha is now a celebrant. / This was the mid 1970s!
My mother was very proud of the way she and my father had started all over again, after arriving, age 39, in Sydney, with only just what would fit into a wooden crate. / Both worked very hard in factories. / Extremely neat and tidy. / (I suspect she would have known that I would not keep that up.) / This is the home unit (apartment) that we moved into late fifties, in what was known as Parkes Development, in Eastlakes, near Kingsford, in Sydney.
These shots are of my Mom’s Mom and Dad. I took this shot with my Mom’s box camera when I was a boy. (early 1950s) I also developed the black and white film and printed it in my own darkroom. The car is a 1934 Plymouth coupe. / I used Photoshop to colorize it a couple years ago. I didn’t ask grandpa to kiss grandma. He did it for me when I told him the first photo looked too stern/stiff. He never posed like this for anyone else in the family. It always made me feel good inside. My Mom’s folks were really neat, fun loving people. I feel so privilaged to have known them. They have been gone for many years now, but my love for them will never cease. Ed
This old barn has history that goes back to when the road was nothing more than a dirt road winding thru the valley, as is proved by the closeness of the road to the barn entrance. Barns were built for easy entrance from the roadway. You can find many old barns sitting extremely close to the roads, now paved, that were built with easy access in mind. Pa. is mainly a farming state even today, although many farms are fast being bought up by people from the cities in near by New York or New Jersey for purposes of relocation to a more peaceful and less expensive life style. Sad but true, much of the beautiful farm lands are now “developed” housing markets that is booming in this area of Pa. Somehow progress always seems to mean less of the natural and the beautiful and more of the repeated over crowding prevalent to city life, leaving our “roots” behind as a story in history books. Remembering when life was more simple and most people did not even hear the word “stressed” or know what it referred to in lifestyles.
If you listen closely / You might still hear the / Echoes of her song / (about the prince who shall come) It was lost along the way / Somewhere between / Time and I do’s / (and the I don’t anymore) Snow White is faded now / A memory of mist / And enchanted dreams / (made within a little girls heart) But if you look attentively / You might still see / The dreams written on her heart / (like faded old newspaper) ( ( Echoes of what might have been ) )
Many years ago, I received a gift from an elderly friend. She wanted to gift me then rather than after she had passed on and everyone was fighting over the “goods” as she would call them. She was a sweet and proper lady full of elegant charm. One of the gifts she chose for me was an antique broach of silver and amethysts. The broach was made in England over 200 years ago. The stones were made from a process using the left over chips from gem stones and re-cut after melting them down. This particular piece has 49 stones varying in size from pinhead to the size of my thumbnail (I have very small hands). It is 2 inches by 3.5 inches in size. I thought it would be fun to photograph and see how it would look on the macro level. I used an old scarf with pink roses on it to add some color. I hope you enjoy my experiment as much as I did. Mission Viejo, CA
in today’s complicated world i was thinking today of the simpler days, when daily worries could be chalked up to playing hopscotch with childhood friends, etching doodles of my dreams with sticks in the dirt, wearing pigtails and frilly dresses, eating my favorite ice cream, and cuddling up with my family for comfort. perhaps that is why i need to write… to have a chance now and again to tap into that magical time when dragon tales and fairy dust dance within my mind. family photo of me, about 1 yr old, vintage treatment for effect
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