Grief

I've had a hard time with this subject this year. I have talked with several people about this, so, if you have heard this before, I apologize. I process my feelings by talking. Darin calls it verbal diarrhea. This is why I keep talking about grief. I just can't figure it out. I can't wrap my little brain around the concept and its implications. So, here is my oft repeated story.

My good friend, Eric, hanged himself when we were 15. Eric and I had grown up in the same small church. I have a picture of Eric and I sitting on our mother's laps when we are about 6 months old, not too long after he was adopted. The church we attended met on Sunday morning, Sunday evening and Wednesday night, so we saw each other frequently. We also went to the same middle school. In middle school, both of began to rebel especially hard. We both did some really stupid stuff. (Ever tried smoking banana peels, grass clippings, peanut shells, etc, in an attempt to get high? Eric had.) Eric was always trying to come up with some way to get high off everyday items. He would pop any pill that was given to him. (remember folks, this is in middle school. We didn't have access to much.) On more than one occasion, he was given laxatives. He did nearly anything to get attention. He always wore Polo brand clothes, but not by choice. The only exception were two Grateful Dead shirts. I highly doubt he had ever actually heard The Dead, but the shirts were tie-dye and he knew it was stoner music. His sister needle pointed him a belt with dancing bears on it. They buried him in that belt.

I had sat next to Eric at church that Sunday night. We sat in the back row together. I would brood and write in my journal while he doodled and wrote perverted names and addresses on the cards left in the pews for visitors. By this time, I was a sophomore at Lafayette, while he was still a freshman at Dunbar, due to being held back in eighth grade. Nothing extraordinary happened during the church service. We hung out outside and watched the kids play. There was one little girl, Madie, that would only go to Eric. She wouldn't let anyone else touch her. He had her sitting on a low tree branch and was bouncing the branch around to make her giggle. Eric left with his parents and went to Krogers to buy lunch meat and cheese because he wanted to pack his lunch for school that week. He got home around eight. I'm not sure what happened in those next three hours. I was on the phone with a friend around 11:30. I was not supposed to be on the phone that late. I got a beep. It was a man from church wanting to talk to my dad. I knew something was amiss, as it was too late for him to be calling. Either something bad had happened or someone wanted to be baptized. My dad got off the phone and said that Eric had tried to hang himself and that they were headed to the hospital. I laughed and thought of what a dumb ass he was to try to get attention that way. I rolled my eyes and went to bed without giving it another thought.

When I woke up in the morning, I found my mom crying in the kitchen. She told me that Eric had died. I know I started crying right away, but was still in shock. I was able to get myself dressed and ready for school. Once I got to school, I went to my favorite teacher, Mrs. Foose, and told her what had happened. She gave me a hug and I knew that it really sucked, but didn't cry. During lunch, I told my friends in drumline that committing suicide was about the dumbest thing you could ever do. I was more angry than sad at this point. His visitation was on Wednesday night. I arrived to find my good friend, Cole, outside smoking. I ran up to him and we shared what is easily one of the best hugs of my life. The hug swallowed me whole and I could feel the same grief I was feeling inside Cole, too. It was so powerful and full of love. They had an open casket visitation. As all dead people colored with make-up and pumped full of preservatives do, he looked orange and fake. They were able to pull his collared shirt up high enough to cover the marks on his neck. His casket was chock full of knick knacks, cigarettes, joints, notes, you name it, that his peers wanted him to have. I put in my a ball chain necklace with a Grateful Dead charm in with his body.

The next day, at his funeral, there were so many people from Dunbar there that Cole and I had to sit in the very back room and watch his funeral on a TV screen. This made me so mad that people who had known him at Dunbar, most likely only in passing, had the privilege to see his funeral through their own eyes, not through some soulless TV screen. That I had known him since we were infants, and I was delegated to the back. Eric had recently started taking guitar lessons. The most recent song he had been learning was John Lennon's, Beautiful Boy. His guitar teacher played it and it was heartbreaking. (Six years later, a week after Denali was born, Darin played his radio show especially for me. He played songs about parenthood and babies and all the good stuff that comes with procreation. One of the songs he played was Beautiful Boy. I sat and wept, grieving with my whole body, for all the mother's who have lost a child.) The Funeral moved on to the Lexington Cemetery, where they buried him on a hillside overlooking a pond. While they buried him, I wondered what would happen to all the accoutrements we had tossed in the casket. I still wonder about those things every time I visit his grave.

This post has gone on longer than I had planned.I haven't even gotten to my purpose of this post. I've written things here that I haven't thought about in nearly a decade. The literary diarrhea was more forceful that I had expected it to be. I have to prepare for a March Madness performance tonight, so I'm going to hop off and continue this post, sooner than later.

epic weekend

Forecastle, Part 2:

We left after Bassnectar in search of a pool party that never quite happened. We wanted it so bad, though. We ended up at the Galt House in Robin & Carla's room. The room had a balcony that looked out over the interstate and the river. They had a CD player and a bunch of CDs that I had never heard of. I managed to find one stellar album. Peaking Lights
is a band I heard at Boomslang. (Also greatly enjoyed at Boomslang last year, Caboladies.) Soft female vocals backed by ambient noise. No one else seemed to enjoy it, so I took the CD player out onto the balcony and sat by myself for a bit. Looking out over the river, feet up on the railing, bridges lit up and the Colgate Clock in the distance, accompanied by the sound of the interstate and Peaking Lights. It was profoundly amazing. The amalgamation of the serenity of the river, mixed with lights on the concrete bridge to the visuals of lights in the distance and speeding lights below, supplemented with the sounds of thousands of cars driving by, to places I will likely never see in my lifetime. It brought to mind American Beauty, my favorite movie.

"It was one of those days when it's a minute away from snowing and there's this electricity in the air, you can almost hear it. And this bag was, like, dancing with me. Like a little kid begging me to play with it. For fifteen minutes. And that's the day I knew there was this entire life behind things, and... this incredibly benevolent force, that wanted me to know there was no reason to be afraid, ever. It helps me remember... and I need to remember... Sometimes there's so much beauty in the world I feel like I can't take it, like my heart's going to cave in."

That last sentence sums up my feelings on that balcony.


While I'm on the subject of this beauty by the waterway, I wish Lexington had a waterway downtown. I know there was one that was covered up. I want that back. That is one thing I love about being in bigger cities is being able to be downtown by the water. Another stark contrast of man vs. nature. I have lived in Lexington my entire life. I'm pretty dang sure that it will always be my home. I went to preschool and high school at the same school. I now teach at that same school. While sometimes I feel really lame for not leaving and going on to do something grand in a big city, I love Lexington. I know it has its downfalls, and many of them, but it is solidly my home. If my heart could be shaped in another form, it might look like Kentucky. In my KY shaped heart, there would be a river flowing through Lexington. It would probably be a river of blood. That is so morbid. I'll be moving on now.

Mindy and I got back to our hotel room around 12:30. I really wanted to go find the after party. After dancing to Bassnectar, I was ready for some more. Mindy was too tired to go out, and nobody else was wanting to dance, so I decided to walk around downtown Louisville by myself. I walked down Main St. to 21C Museum Hotel. Most of our friends were staying there. I walked around the first 2 floors of the museum, looking at all the incredible art. Before that night, art museums sounded stuffy and boring. All the art I have studied has been art of dead people. Obviously, not my kind of art. I should have known better! all of the art at 21C is by living artists.

One artist had taken pictures of children, altered their facial features and placed them in strange ominous backgrounds.

This was part of the main exhibit. Animals that have been altered or pictures of taxidermied animals in unnatural settings. The actual animals were very strange.

This was one of the few conceptual art pieces. I saw this one first at night, then took this picture the next day. The three machines blow smoke rings. depending on the atmospheric pressure, angle of sunlight, temperature and wind, the smoke rings took a wide array of shapes and sizes. it was mesmerizing to watch. The thought that went into this art, from conceiving the very idea, to creating the machines that will make the rings, it all fascinates me that others people's brains work this way. Mine certainly does not.

This is one of the first pieces that caught my eye. The Barbie-esque eyes places on the contrasting dark skin stood out in a haunting manner. It gave the illusion of a jungle animal, stalking its prey.

This is a pencil drawing. Even up close, it is hard to tell. The shading and detail is so intricate and detailed. The image of a young boy in a man's body, in a piece of art that is nearly life size.


After wondering around 21C for an hour & a half, I left and walked around downtown Louisville for an hour. I looked at the old shotgun buildings and how far back they go. The buildings are old but for the most part, in good condition. Louisville seems to value the old architecture more than our fair city. There were entertaining signs on the Army Surplus store. There was a building with windows decorated with rainbow designs on the first floor, with the remaining 3 stories an empty shell. These building were haunting but hopeful. Down the street a bit I was marveling at the shotgun business when suddenly, in front of me was not a little storefront, but gigantic pillars of granite. I looked up and realized I was in front of the Humana Building. I am not easily impressed with new architecture. I was not impressed by the building materials, structural design or the feel of the building. In fact, the entire building made me want to shake my fists at the insurance premiums I pay, all the forms of documentation I have to send in, all so they can build an enormous building so their CEO can sit comfortably. The things about the building that really impressed me is that I was looking at storefronts that are at least a 150 years old, then suddenly, I'm in front of a new building. the mixture of the old and new, how well they were melded together, made me yearn for Lexington to have the vision to do that as well. There was a space in between the old buildings and the new that was about six inches wide. I could stick my arm in between these buildings. Those six inches separate at least 150 years of architecture and history. It made me jealous of what could be in Lexington.

I came back to our hotel room and talked to Asian Steev and Mindy. Mindy and I stayed up until 5am laughing. Slumber parties are awesome. I have dibs on Mindy and Steev for my hotel room next year. Back off.

By Sunday, My energy from performing was waning. The last two performances were especially taxing. I just didn't have it in me anymore. After 10 performances, I was ready to put the cymbals down for a long break. Once I laid the cymbals down, I realized that I had not eaten since 10am. I ate a really good hamburger (with locally raised beef!) and fries. I took it easy and patiently waited for the show I was most excited about, Ted Leo and The Pharmacists. Darin and I saw TL in 2006 in Newport. While TL was awesome, the venue was horrid. There was no re entrance. We went in at 2 o'clock and didn't leave until midnight. They had fries, hot dogs and pizza. Tap water and beer. And it was a smoking venue. But, Ted Leo made what would have been an absolutely miserable day into a bad day with a good ending. Me & Mia is one of my favorite songs. It is about a girl with an eating disorder. There is a touching movie that a girl made about her struggle with eating disorders here. I got there early enough to be in the front row, which is not something I typically do. The band came out and I got to get a good view of them for the first two songs. I couldn't hear Ted enough, so I moved to the back to be with my friends. The music was all awesome and high energy. Ted Leo is a great performer. Most of his songs are political in some way and his for wanting to fix things that are unjust and write beautiful songs about them clearly comes across in his music. The drummer is also very entertaining to watch. He is easy on the eyes and he looks like he is focusing so hard on drumming. He doesn't make eye contact with the crown at all, he just looks up the entire time. They played for about 40 minutes and played only stuff off their new album, Brutalist Bricks. I patiently waited for them to play Me & Mia, to no avail. When they said their Thank Yous and Goodnights, I was heartbroken that they hadn't played my jam. While the whole show was excellent, my expectations killed me in the end. I left the show pretty bummed. In the past, I have had a hard time with expectations. I would create these scenarios of what I expected to happen, the best possible outcome. When my ideal didn't occur, I would be disappointed, no matter how good it really was. I slipped back into that bad habit for the show, but it has served as a good reminder of why expectations can only let you down.

We migrated over to the main stage to wait for The Flaming Lips. What more can I say other than they are The Flaming Lips? Their shows are of astronomical proportions. The videos, the confetti, the balloons, Wayne Coyne in a giant ball rolling over the crown. The band coming out of a huge infrared ultraviolet vagina of light? What is there not to be impressed by? They played Vasoline in the beginning, Yoshimi towards the middle and they closed with Do You Realize? I cried during DYR? I cried for friends that have passed on that would have been at that show if they were alive, for friends faraway, for all my relations. It is such a happy sad song, the kind of song that makes you cry, but inspires you to do better. I have been compiling a list of funeral songs for several years. This sounds morbid, but I'm searching for songs that are not just about death, but about the good things, too. DYR? was the impetus for me to make that list. It is just the right songs for endings.

So, in closing for this entry that went on for far too long:
Do you realize that happiness makes you cry?

epic weekend

Forecastle, part 1:



Last weekend, my band, The March Madness Marching Band, performed at the Forecastle Music Festival in Louisville. It is our second year there and proved to be equally fun as last year, just in a different way. I'm really unsure where to start. I came home sick on Monday and today is the first day I have felt human. We performed a total of 10 times over the three days of the festival. Two of those performances were with Cirque Berzerk, a performing arts group that has been referred to as, "the circus on acid." I feel comfortable saying that our band as a whole has a great reverence for the Cirque. Being asked to play with them was undoubtibly a highlight of the MMMB career. Their opening act involved four men jumping on two trampolines that were separated by a thick wall on which they would land. I have always had a trampoline and it makes me very happy to jump on them. The rest of the performances were great, but I was so thrilled with the trampoline act that everything else paled in comparison. At the end of their show, the MC introduced us as, "Our new friends, The March Madness Marching Band." While we were performing, the entertainers were sitting on the sidelines with absolutely delightful looks on their faces. That was the highlight of all of our performances thus far. That entertainers that amazed me with their talent enjoyed ours, as well.

Saturday began at 9am with a bike ride to the Fall of the Ohios. We started at the Galt House and rode across the bridge, which is a really long bridge on bike and skipped over to the FotO park. Falls is a rather misleading word. I'm sure at some point during the year, the water is falling over the man-made lock, it just was not last Saturday. It was a nice little spot to take a break and sit on a shore with feet in water.


After more performances, it was eventually time to start seeing bands that I wanted to see. Cake was up first and was fun. I didn't get to see the whole show due to some distractions, but what I heard was good and made me wish I had been in the very front of the crowd. Next was DEVO. Wowza. They know how to put on a great show. DEVO did get creepy at the end of the show with a creature dressed in graduation robes and speaking in a strange voice about Michael Jackson. JenMill did not like it at all. It was pointed out to me that it would not be a true DEVO show if they didn't get weird. I have to agree with that. They played everything I wanted to hear, including their new song, What We Do. Be sure to click on the link to watch that video clip. If you don't like it, there is nothing I can do to help.

Bassnectar was next. The DJ, Lorin Ashton (who is unbelievably hot), was a juxtaposition compared to the previous artist. From new wave to drum & bass, it turned out to be an impressive transition. Bassnectar was easily the best show I saw at Forecastle. I had never heard of him before, but I have listened to him everyday since. Half-timed beats with songs that everyone knows created an instant dance party. I had a hard time not doing the robot. A very hard time.

Isn't he hot? I have a thing for guys with one headphone pressed between the ear and shoulder, especially while bent over some sort of electronic equipment. Go figure.




I had the pleasure of being surrounded by really great people that I love dearly and dancing to really excellent music, all the while wearing some mind blowing glasses, courtesy of Sue McKaig.

I should have stolen them. They make everything look happy. They made me feel like Willy Wonka, Johnny Depp style.

Saturday night and Sunday hijinx to be explored in another post.

Mission Accomplished

In March, I set a goal for myself that I would lose 25 pounds by Forecastle Festival. I had been right on track to meet my goal during the school year. Once I started staying home for the summer, it became a lot harder to lose. I weigh myself every Tuesday morning on our Wii Balance Board. I weighed myself yesterday after skipping last week. I was expecting to have either maintained or gained a few pounds. To my surprise, I had lost three pounds in the 2 weeks, which meant I had reached my goal! My goal of 25 pounds was chosen because it would put my BMI in the healthy weight range. It also put me 10 pounds over what I weighed when I got pregnant. I had weighed 10 pounds more than I weighed when I gave birth. To me, the best part of losing weight is not carrying around the equivalent of 5 Five-pound bags of flour. Carrying 5 of those in your arms would be really tiring after a while. Carrying those around all the time is much harder on your body, all the time.

The most significant part of this process has been my changed attitude towards my body. Most women will always hate some part of their body. There is always something that could be smaller or bigger, shorter or taller. A few weeks ago, I was laying naked in bed. I looked down at my body and I actually liked what I saw. I can't think of another time that I have felt this way, with the exception of pregnancy. If I have, it has been a very long time. Looking down at my body, it looked like a rolling hillside. There were hills and valleys. If I looked at a landscape like this, I would be in awe of its beauty. It was a very new feeling to look down and like what I saw and the feeling of being desirable. I like that feeling a whole lot. I hope more women can feel this way, too.

DoI, part 2

Patriotic Patty say, "I've read the Declaration of Independence. Have you?"








This is not a blog about politics. It is not my desire to promote my beliefs upon anyone else. In this post, my only desire is to point out parts of this beautiful document that I think are the most profound and relevant for me.

1. "That to secure these rights, Governments are instituted among Men, deriving their just powers from the consent of the governed, — That whenever any Form of Government becomes destructive of these ends, it is the Right of the People to alter or to abolish it, and to institute new Government."
The DoI holds us, as citizens, responsible to revolt against government that is destructive and unjust. It is our responsibilty and our right to alter or abolish and create a new government if the old one is no longer working. I suppose the people that use the phrase, "Love it or Leave it," have never read the DoI. And people saying it is unpatriotic to stand up against injustice, Maybe they skipped this part as well. Or maybe their small brains could not comprehend the big words.

2. "Evils are sufferable than to right themselves by abolishing the forms to which they are accustomed."
See #1. We hold the power to abolish the old system and make changes as necessary.

3. "It is their right, it is their duty, to throw off such Government, and to provide new Guards for their future security."
Our right. Our duty. These are powerful words, chosen, no doubt, to emphasize the importance of this statement and our responsibility to safeguard our right to life, liberty and our pursuit of happiness.

4. "He has dissolved Representative Houses repeatedly, for opposing with manly firmness his invasions on the rights of the people."
Invasion of freedom of speech, easily seen in the Gulf with reporters and journalists banned from filming or taking pictures.

5. "He has endeavored to prevent the population of these States; for that purpose obstructing the Laws for Naturalization of Foreigners; refusing to pass others to encourage their migrations hither."
"Illegal" immigrants? In the same way the forepeople of our country had the right to emigrate to America, why do others not have this right now? Why is the process so arduous? Why are Tea Baggers so against people coming into our country, making it so hard for people to become part of "this great nation," and talking of abolishing the constitutional right for citizenship for all born in America?


6. "He has plundered our seas, ravaged our coasts, burnt our towns, and destroyed the lives of our people."
Oil spill, anyone? Why has the government allowed BP to handle the cleanup? Why have we not stepped in and billed BP for the whole mess? Why has our government allowed corporations to buy their way or loophole their way out of environmental safeguards?

7. "He is at this time transporting large Armies of foreign Mercenaries to compleat the works of death, desolation, and tyranny, already begun with circumstances of Cruelty & Perfidy scarcely paralleled in the most barbarous ages, and totally unworthy the Head of a civilized nation."
How many countries have we invaded, killing their citizens. Why are so many of our military actions are barbaric? Water boarding, etc?

8. "And for the support of this Declaration, with a firm reliance on the protection of Divine Providence, we mutually pledge to each other our Lives, our Fortunes, and our sacred Honor," and "That all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights," as well as, "The separate and equal station to which the Laws of Nature and of Nature's God entitle them."
The argument that we are a christian nation infuriates me. There is nothing about America that is Christ-like. If Christ were here in America today, he would be a heretic. How entertaining it would be to watch some dumb conservative tell Jesus to "Love it or leave it."

This has turned out to be more aggressive than I had intended.

Regardless of my frustrations with America, I am blessed to not wake up to grenades outside of my window. I have never had to hide in fear. There are a myriad of things that I have not faced because of my privilege of being a white American. While some would say that I shouldn't bite the hand that feeds me, the writers of the DoI would hold me accountable for voicing my feelings regarding our government. I would like to think I am doing exactly what they intended me to do.

The Delaration of Independence

I'm sure I had to read the DoI at some point in my educational career. Surely, it has to be in there somewhere. I did somehow get out of high school completely unaware of the Crusades. While my husband thinks this reflects upon public education, I believe it reflects on ADD and a monotone World Civilization teacher. So, like I said, I'm sure it was covered somewhere between ages 5-18. It was only a few years ago that I discovered what a profoundly moving document it is. Each year on the 4th of July, NPR reporters take turns reading the DoI in its entirety. I had a newspaper route at the time and was awake at 7am on a Saturday morning to hear the reading. While I am not an emotional person, and do not consider myself patriotic in any way, it almost had me in tears. It largely echoed my sentiments regarding our country. America often disgusts me. The sense of entitlement, waste, a wealthcare system, and superiority that Americans hold turn my stomach. I fully admit that I play into the stereotype of all the aforementioned characteristics. Seeing these traits in myself make me the most disgusted. The thing you hate the most in others is simply a reflection of yourself, right? At the time, I was especially angry. The Bush administration was in full swing. (Nuff said.) I wanted to revolt, to take back the country from the war, from poverty, from the hands of the extremely wealthy. I wanted, and still want, the little people to matter. Listening to the reading, alone in my old Subaru, inspired me in a profound way. The forepeople of our country were angry and were oppressed. They were furious at the monarchy, and truly yearned for a better way of life. They were willing to fight for it, not just through political action, but by physically putting their bodies in the gears of the machine. While I have trouble supporting any war, I could be persuaded to endorse this war for the sheer fact that these people knew that there could be a better way of life and that they were willing fight to get it. They were willing to move to an unknown land, enter battle and take on the arduous process of writing documents, by hand, to frame exactly what they wanted. I like that.

The thing I liked most about the DoI was that it disproved so many of the tired phrases thrown out by conservative war/hate mongers. "Love it or leave it," has always made me cringe. Basically saying, If you don't like the way we do things, and have always done things, then we have no room for you here. It makes me think of The Lottery. We have always done things this way, why should we change now? The fallacy with this argument is that it only works when you are in the majority, and history has shown how quickly the majority can be overthrown. So the next post is filled with my favorite parts of the DoI. This document is one of the few things that make me feel proud to be an American.

Just for today

I have really appreciated this recently.

Just for today, I will try to live through this day only,
and not tackle my whole life problem
at once. I can do something for twelve hours
that would appall me if I felt that I had to
keep it up for a lifetime.

Just for today, I will be happy. This assumes to
be true what Abraham Lincoln said, that
"most folks are as happy as they make up
their minds to be."

Just for today, I will try to strengthen my mind.
I will study. I will learn something useful.
I will not be a mental loafer. I will read
something that requires effort, thought and
concentration.

Just for today, I will adjust myself to what is,
and not try to adjust everything to my own
desires. I will take my "luck" as it comes,
and fit myself to it.


Just for today, I will exercise my soul in three
ways: I will do somebody a good turn, and
not get found out. I will do at least two
things I don't want to--just for exercise.
I will not show anyone that my feelings are
hurt; they may be hurt, but today I will not
show it


Just for today, I will be agreeable. I will look
as well as I can, dress becomingly, talk low,
act courteously, criticize not one bit, not
find fault with anything and not try to improve
or regulate anybody except myself.

Just for today, I will have a program. I may not
follow it exactly, but I will have it. I will
save myself from two pests: hurry and indecision.


Just for today, I will be unafraid. Especially I
will not be afraid to enjoy what is beautiful,
and to believe that as I give to the world, so
the world will give to me.

The second Climax

After leaving Climax spring, we drove past a little country church. This church is one I think most people, even the nonbelievers, could attend.

Ladies and Gentlemen, I am proud to present Climax Christian Church.




After the multiple Climaxes, we headed back to Berea. When we are in Berea, we always stop at The Black Feather. A comfy little coffee shop with exceptional food and some of the best people in all of Madison County. On Friday nights, they have pizza. No pepperoni, no supreme, no pizza like you have ever had before. I've heard the term "kitchen sink" tossed around before, but these pizzas have everything from the kitchen sink, the counters and the cabinets. My favorite pizza creation was some kind of white onion and garlic sauce with garbonzo beans, locally raised mustard greens, local chicken, and sweet potatoes. It did not sound appetizing when Darin ordered it, but it was incredible.

The Black Feather is our go-to spot in Berea because we know that if we go there, we will see at least five people that we love and we will meet 5 more that are equally cool. The owner's son is usually there outside of school hours. Kids are always running around and it is a great place to take the family.



One other really cool thing about the Black Feather is that the people there LOVE Darin's band, The Rough Customers. Their shows there are easily the most fun. Being in Lexington, I am spoiled that I can go out any night of the week and see some type of live music. Berea is a dry town, so live music is severely limited. When the band comes to play, the kids go crazy. Everyone dances and everyone is so enthusiastic.

The Rough Customers + The Black Feather + pizza = a night well spent

Starting the day off with Climax

I am not the type to buy fancy bottled water, or even plain bottled water. I would rather go thirsty than drink tap water. The taste makes it hard for me to swallow. I fully admit that I am a water snob. Every two weeks, Darin drives down to Climax spring in Rockcastle County. He picks up his daughters in Berea every Thursday and swings by Climax while he is down there. Climax is a gem among gems. It is a mainstay for people near and far. It doesn't look like much when you drive up. A simple concrete slab with an L shaped pipe jutting out of the ground next to a small creek. Out of the pipe flows the best water I have ever had the pleasure of drinking. There is no cost for getting water here and you can get as much as your heart could ever desire. Back your vehicle up to the spigot and fill her up. People come from miles around to fill up on this free, clean water. We have 14 five gallon water bottles that we fill up. While there, you encounter everyone from a redneck wearing a rebel flag shirt filling up a 1,000 gallon cistern in the back of a truck, to an old married couple, filling up hundreds of 12 ounce plastic bottles, one at a time. I will never forget the day I was filling up and an old man came up and started talking while I was filling my jugs. He asked if I was from around here I said no, and he told me that he lived just a mile down the road. He said he had been coming here to fill up on water for as long as he could remember. He told me with a quivering voice of receiving a knock on his door late at night 57 years ago, from two police officers. They bore the bad news that his 16 year old daughter had wrecked just up the road from Climax. Here he was, 51 years later, still heartbroken over the loss of his daughter. I think of him each time I am there.

Paris, Part 2

After lunch, Darin drove me around Paris. Darin moved to Bourbon County when he was nine. He pointed out various locations of significant impact in his teenage years. In his younger years, Darin and his friends made a point of ridding all of Paris of black lawn jockeys. Even to a teenage Darin, they seemed to be a reflection of lingering attitudes. In order to show their disdain for the jockeys, they took them to a bridge and threw them over. While we didn't stop to look, I am certain that the cemetery of freed jockeys remains.

I have a fascination with abandoned buildings. I have spent hours trolling the internet looking for pictures and tales of explorations. I am especially excited by abandoned buildings that contain artifacts from the building's previous life. Most abandoned buildings have been turned into trash cans and a canvas for bad graffiti. Several years ago, we purchased Weird Kentucky. I got so giddy reading that book, because it contained so many places I have already been, often without knowing the history. I read about the old TB Hospital in Paris and I have since heard many stories about it. Everyone seems to have a story about a friend that visited it once, experiencing some sort of supernatural horror. Darin told me of going there late one night in high school with some buddies. The friends went in to explore, while Darin stayed out. He said it was creepy, but nothing happened. The only exciting thing that resulted from the visit was his friends finding an 8 track and bringing it out to him. It was a Lonnie Liston Smith album that we now have on vinyl.

I wanted to see the hospital. On our way, I expected it to be in the middle of nowhere. Instead, it sits atop a hill, overlooking the city park and fair grounds. An old, supposedly haunted building in the middle of a place filled with excitement. An odd place to build a park. The building is surprisingly accessible. We drove right up. There wasn't a single window with glass remaining and the broken glass was everywhere. There were several access points we could have entered, but I had no desire to explore inside. We could see inside the doors. They were littered with tuna/cat food cans and bad graffiti. The musty stench was horrid. While walking around, we peered into several doors, but we were unable to see anything significant.





For More info about the hospital and its hauntings, click here

While we were there, Darin and I were discussing ghosts. Denali was all ears and kept asking questions about ghosts. We have a ghost in our house. I see her often, Darin has seen her before and numerous people who lived here before us have seen or felt her. When we returned home, Denali asked questions, "What if the ghost is in my bedroom? Does she steal my toys?"(The Salvation Army steals his toys. Please don't tell.) I have told him repeatedly that she is nice and played a trick on me once. I told him about the first ghost I ever saw. I was walking in the pitch dark and tripped on a roller skate. As was falling, I saw black hands surrounded by white light and felt very cold, but then suddenly, I was standing up straight. When told him this story, he was more comfortable with the idea of a ghost in our house. Last night, we decided to give her a name. Since our home was built at the the turn of the century, I assumed that she was possibly born around that time as well. I looked up the Social Security Administration's website and found the top 50 baby names of 1900. Denali and I chose the name Eleanor. This afternoon, he heard his sister open the door upstairs and said, "Did you hear that? I bet it was just Eleanor teasing us."

Paris, Part 1

On Tuesday, we went to see our dentist, Dr. Cutler. She is great. She works at Downtown Dentistry in Paris. The building is a former mortuary. It is a very warm space for a dentist's office. It felt clean but not clinical. I like that a lot. Upstairs from the office is a childcare center that is free to the employees of the dental office. I really appreciate that mothers can be close their children throughout the day. This kind of family-friendly atmosphere for employees makes me want to support any business. I hope in the future, this will be available to more people.

After the dentist, we walked down the street to Varner's. Varner's was recently featured in the Herald Leader. You can acces that story as well as their website here. It is an old pharmacy that opened over a century ago. It was recently renovated, but the charm and character of the building remain intact. The mahogany cabinets and shelves, complete with brass handles etched with the drawer's specific medicine, line the walls. Looking up and down the cafe, reading the drawer pulls, with contents ranging from ipecac to rock candy. The cafe was also littered with old toys and relics.


Darin had an astonishingly low score on the character test.

We ordered our food from a girl with an adorable Bourbon County accent. She kept asking us if we wanted rye bread and it took her 3 times before we could understand her. Darin and I split a roast beef and bleu cheese on rye and a reuben. The roast beef and bleu cheese was very pungent and unusual, but really good. The rueben was also good, but I have eaten a lot of reubens. After having one mind blowingly delicious reuben, every other rueben will always pale in comparison. It was delicious, though. We also ordered the house-made lemonade that was very refreshing.

On our way out to the patio, we checked out the bar. it had colorful tile work that caught my eye.



The patio was partially shaded and very relaxing. The chairs were very comfortable. As additional shade, they had strung up canvas hammocks. The hammocks swayed from side to side in the wind, casting moving rays of sunshine over the patio.


Between the sandwiches and the beautiful building, our lunch was fantastic. I highly recommend Varner's. The 20 minute drive there is worth it.