Here, There be a Writer

Sunday, May 25, 2014

AROW80 Memorial Weekend Blog

It's Memorial Day weekend, and I have taken it off!  I am out if town visiting my dad. It's been a weekend of reminiscing and relaxing. I got to stand on the shores of Lake Erie at Point Grommit (Officially Point Gratiot), see a white squirrel, and have a peanut butter banana milkshake and Sullivan's Charbroil.

I do some of my best thinking when standing on the beach. Point Grommit is one of those places where all you see is water when you look out at the lake. The sunshine glinting off the water with the breeze blowing steadily. It's a calm place. It's one I return to most times I return to Chautauqua County.

I wrote a scene about standing upon these shores. It just a great place to get inspired and also find beach glass, even though the beaches are still littered with dead fish, drift wood, and and winter trash. Despite the grubby attire, Grommit was a beautiful site.

David and I played upon the shores ans took pictures. It was grand fun. This is really what we do when not glued to our computers.

We have photos of White, Black, and Black and Red squirrels that will share next time.

Upon the less than happy news from Chautauqua County. This news has been going around the internet block, but I thought I would comment on it since I was going to be in Fredonia this weekend.

It's a harder trip to bear with the local factory that makes ketchup, salad dressing, and peanut butter; Carriage House (formerly Red Wing) having been bought out by ConAgra Foods. They are planning to shut the factory down sometime next year and the feel of my friends still in the area is anger, frustration, and sometimes defeat. I have friends that are planning on moving to Missouri after Carriage House closes. I can feel the change in Chautauqua County. While there is fights still going on the try to keep the factory open, there are those who are choosing to leave the area.

It's a rough world we live in. I can on;y wish my friends who choose to to leave the very best of luck and continue to make my life the best. It's a  personal choice and in a world full of crazy corporations and bad news, sometimes you gotta make the tough choices and make yourself happy.

Point Grommit Entrance
David on Monkey Bars
 Turtle at Sheridan Memorial Park
So, for me, I go to my happy places, Point Grommit, Russell Joy Park, and Sheridan Memorial Park. These are some of the happiest places of my youth. I have reclaimed my happy and currently watch Star Trek Into Darkness and blogging contently. It's true that I have not done any goals since Friday, but I still feel good.

I am starting fresh tomorrow, Dear Readers. I hope you all have an awesome Memorial Day, whether it is a picnic or just spending time with your family. What are your plans? I am returning to Corning and spending time with the kitties. I might grill up some burgers and maybe watch a bad movie or two.

Have a great Memorial Day, Dear Readers. I would love to share my scene that I wrote earlier in the week, inspired by Point Grommit, or at least part of it. Let me know what you think? Also,l go and visit the other ROW80-ers at the Blog Hop!!

I remember that afternoon, when the sky was a slate grey. There were clouds, looking like cotton balls coated in grey paint and nary a sight of blue. I was sad. It was colder, much colder than a May day should be. My canvas shoes sunk into the sand and I can smell seaweed and rotting fish.

One step.

One step.

One step.

The shale rocks abounded, and there in my hand, I cup a good sized rock. The edges feel sharp, but I am not really paying attention. I can feel the air wash over my arm as I fling the piece of shale into the lake.

One Skip.

Two Skip.


"Damn, I was hoping for a three bagger," I said to the passing seagulls over head. Their calls echoed across the waves and the wind. I look down to find another piece of shale. There are pieces of green and blue beach glass sitting upon the sand like jewels. My hands scoop up a handful of wet sand as I pull out the finely worn glass pieces, and dust off the sand. It clings to my hand and I left patting my hands on my pants. I glance up at the sky and the lake. The breeze has picked up. I came here to think. It always was that way.

Another handful of sand and another green piece of beach glass, into my pocket. I lean over to grab a piece of shale, determined to skip this stone at least three times. My dad could skip three or four, sometimes even five. Pulling back I let go.

One Skip.

Two Skip.


"Should have known," I said to the lake. I started walking along the shores of Lake Erie. Looking down there's piles of seaweed, driftwood, and occasional dead fish. Standard. I picked up a rock and lobbed it into the lake.


I was thinking about her again. I looked down and found another piece of shale; it was in my hands and flying across the air.

One skip.

I saw her face, there next to me, also skipping stones with hair blowing around and laughing.

Two skip.

I loved her. Not just in that moment, but always. I turned to her and kissed her on the lips.

Three skips!

The kiss. The kiss that never happened. At least it never happened here, in this moment. I felt my lips, my tongue and the warmth flowing down throughout my body.


The real world came back. I was cold and shivering and feeling very alone. I stared out into the expansive void of Lake Erie, steel blue and slate grey in the sky. This place was special. Not just because I came here with her, but because it was a beautiful place to lose you mind in the water and waves.


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