A Bit of Reflection

When they are little, they throw fits, make messes, ask constant questions, make demands of your time and try your patience. You tell  yourself, "Someday they will be grown and I won't have to deal with this nonsense any more."
The days and weeks go by and before you know it, it happens. They really are grown up and gone. They have families of their own.
Sometimes they become very self involved and they don't care about their parents anymore. They feel like since they are adults they have earned the right to say whatever they think about everything regardless of whether or not it might be hurtful to the inconsequential parent they are speaking to.
Sometimes you see them making a million huge mistakes and you want to tell them they are messing up their life irrevocably but if you do tell them, they just stop speaking to you and keep doing whatever the hell they want to do because (holy shit!) they are adults and free to do as they please.
So what to do? Stay silent and let them live their lives and make their own way? Jump in and try to boss them around and alienate them further? I honestly don't know anymore. And I can't believe that I'm now the one who wishes she could go back to the days when they were little and do it all over again.

The "Urbex" "Rurex" Thing

Gritty Old Sofa in The Baker Hotel

"What is urbex?"

Urban exploration (often shortened as urbex or UE) is the exploration of man-made structures, usually abandoned ruins or not usually seen components of the man-made environment. Photography and historical interest/documentation are heavily featured in the hobby and, although it may sometimes involve trespassing onto private property, this is not always the case and is of innocent intention. ~Wikipedia

The question I am most often asked is this. "Why do you like taking pictures of falling down buildings?"

My fascination began when I was a little girl and my grandmother would babysit me while my Mom was at work. We would tire of being cooped up in the little upstairs apartment and often we would go exploring in the little field next to the apartments where I lived. In that field was a creepy old falling down house and a scary little pond with an island in the center that was surround by thick vegetation. We didn't go near the pond much, it was a rather snakey destination, but for some reason my grandmother seemed as intrigued by the old house and it's contents as I was. 

Some days we would venture down into a basement type room that had cement floors and an old scary wheelchair inside, like OLD, the super old scary kind. Like the one below. 

I don't remember much about the floor level. A few steps up into a room that may or may not have had an old fireplace in it. I cannot see it in my minds eye. But when we went down into that basement, I would get those butterflies in my stomach from fear and excitement and the wonder of old things just being left behind. My Mother would tell us we shouldn't go messing around over there, but the minute she was gone, off we would go through the thigh high weeds back to that grove of trees where that old house sat.

So I guess maybe it started way back then. I remember in junior high and high school various friends and I going into abandoned homes and just looking around. It was never really "breaking in" as there was always a window or door unlocked just begging us to enter. Always the butterflies came, the fear of getting caught and the exhilaration of just being there. And of course, the wonder and speculation about the previous owners. Who were they, where were they now? Why did they leave it all behind?

This abandoned church in Bomarton, Tx. is not really abandoned in the way we generally think of abandoned. A group maintains it and keeps it nice but it is always unlocked and never used. 

Aside from wondering about past inhabitants of the places I explore, I honestly just see beauty in the places you normal folks see a "run down falling down old shack". I love broken windows and peeling paint. I love wooden floors that are so worn you can see the dirt beneath. I love to take pieces of ratty furniture like the couch above and see if I can make it a photo that even someone who doesn't care a whit about urbex would find pleasant to look at. And I like going back in time to whenever the last persons were there. Sometimes you can tell a few things by the paint or the furnishings or even newspapers and pictures left behind. 

Combine all of those things with the fact that I live in an area of North Texas which yields very little in the way of traditional beautiful landscapes except for once or twice a year when we have bluebonnets and blooming things and you have yet another reason for photographing the things I do. Convenience. The old run down shacks will be there til they fall down. They are not going to look prettier with time. There is no hurry to snap them while they are still glorious. The decay of them makes them appealing to me. Crusty old relics of cars in pastures, rotting barely standing barns. These are the things that I love. 

Rurex : The rural counterpart of urban exploration which consists of exploring abandoned rural structures such as houses, "ghost towns", etc

The Baker Suite was where the owner of the hotel lived. It was also where he was found unconscious from a heart attack. I am not sure if he died there but he was pronounced at a local hospital. 

The interior of the suite is still beautiful despite the decay the years have brought. There is now a renovation plan in place for the Baker Hotel and possible reopening as early as 2017. 

To sum it all up, I love urbex, rurex type of photo shoots. When my friend and I recently went to the Baker Hotel, we had to crawl in through a tiny basement window and go through the bowels of the giant to get to where sunlight flooded in through boarded windows. We both had butterflies the whole time we were there. At least I know I did. 

Click here to see my Baker Hotel shots. 

And to quote Forrest Gump..."that's all I have to say about that..."

The Door To Paradise

Last summer, when my daughter graduated high school, we took a little road trip. She and I had been kinda growing distant with all of the problems we had going on in our lives. In an attempt to avoid the pain of the separation and pending divorce, she just stayed gone all the time. Out with her boyfriend, or gone with friends. Anyplace was better than being at home for her at that time. 

So after graduation, we packed up and took a road trip to Pensacola Beach, Florida. It was a two day drive down and a two day drive back. We listened to great tunes, we laughed, we saw country we had never seen before and we reconnected and got to know each other again. And it was great. 

One of my favorite parts of any trip is throwing open the hotel room door and seeing the place that I will call home for however many days. Sometimes I am so disappointed that I can barely breathe, but then sometimes I see a view like this one. And I sigh and smile and realize that for a few days, I will be surrounded by beauty. This was by far the best view I have ever had on vacation. 

I would love to go back there today...and stay forever.

Conversations in the Night

"Beneath the light of the street lamps, conversation was held in hushed and muted tones. Wary eyes darted around to see if they were being watched by any of the inhabitants of the building where they had currently resided for a few months. 

Satisfied that no one was watching, the exchange was made in slow movements so the cameras would not pick them up. Once completed, they both smiled in the darkness. Each had what they wanted. One held a pocket full of money, the other a handful of pills. The transaction was complete and once again they had outwitted "the man" who sat at the top of the hill watching the monitors. 

Ahhh... rehab." ~~

........once you've been a rehab nurse, the mentality always sticks. You always see people trying to get the best of you even if they really aren't. Suspicion becomes the norm and it really never leaves.

The End of All I Know

Well, it's official. Or if it isn't now, it will be very soon. I will be one of those people who woke up with nothing but the clothes on their back and sits shaking their head wondering, how the hell did this happen to me?

On March 28th, the lovely folks who pretend to give a shit and want to help people, also known as the USDA Rural Development began foreclosure on my home. This is the home that my Mother had built for her and myself in 1983. No one but my family has ever lived in this house. All of the memories that linger within these walls belong to me, my children, my Mother and my ex. We have loved this house, been trapped by it, been proud of it. My Mother never dreamed she would have a house like this. It's a modest little brick home. Charming and simple. When she got approved for the loan from the FHA her world was brimming with happiness and possibility. She had her first ever house warming party from her friends at the bank where she worked. I was a teen and clueless as teens are but even I could see how proud she was. She felt like finally after so many years of everything going wrong, being married to a sometimes abusive alcoholic who couldn't keep a job for so many years, finally she had come into a little slice of happiness. 

I went to high school while living here. Got married and "blessed" my Mother with a beautiful blonde haired green eyed granddaughter who made her last years of living as happy as they could be. 

I graduated nursing school while my Mother lived here and gave her another granddaughter to love shortly thereafter.  And then not even a six months later, I became my Mother's nurse when she had her heart attack and went into renal failure. My little family moved in here and took care of my Mother in this little house. We surrounded her with love and made sure that she knew in her final days that we loved her and wanted her and would never have dreamed of tucking her away to be forgotten in a nursing home. 

After she died, only two months after the death of my father from a sudden heart attack, my little family took over the loan on this house and moved in here for good. 

My daughters grew up here. We lived and breathed school and acting and band and cheerleading and happy and sad moments. I found out that my oldest daughter was going to make me a grandmother in the very same room that I told my Mother that she was going to be a grandmother. 

Every bit of my life from the age of 14 until 42 has been lived in these walls. My marriage fell apart here, slowly. And when we finally couldn't breathe new life back into it one more time, we let it go, and he left and I stayed here...in my home...because it is all I've ever known. 

And now, due to some poor choices and some stolen money that I had put back for a rainy day only to find out it is gone...now I am going to lose my little home that I love. 

My youngest daughter and I still live here. We still share our hopes and dreams, although anymore the only hope I have is that somehow someway I will stumble across something of value while I am packing away all of my treasures to be put in storage. I pray and pray and pray to God to send me a financial blessing, to help me get back on my feet. I have no family, no friends with money. No one I can ask for that little loan that helps you get back on your feet when life has robbed you of your dignity. I have nothing. 

All of my job applications are not going through, all of the good Christians I know in my field won't even take the time to answer back when I call about possible jobs. And all of the online "charities"....I never thought I would be considered a charity case...all of them just refer me to someone else...as if chasing my tail for hours at a time before being told it's hopeless is something productive for me to do. 

I am so sorry that I counted on that money that was "there" only to find out when I needed it most that it was long gone. 

I need a miracle. I need a chance. And if I happen to not live through the night, I need to know that my kids will be taken care of by my stupid ex husbands family. The one good thing this has proven to me is that I do...oh so much...want to live to see my grandkids grow up and still have a home for them to come to and play in.
I am not going to be online too much at all. No time to take pictures and do anything except keep beating the pavement and putting in job apps. Yes in a field where they claim you can always get a job, I can't seem to. So don't believe everything you hear. Things are tough all over.
All of my friends, I hope you will pray for me and my kid. She at least has a fiance' she could move in with if we do lose the house. I have no one. It sucks not having family. It sucks having your nest egg stolen. It sucks fighting this fight alone all day every day. When all hope is gone, there ain't much left.

God Beams

I am hoping that God is going to start shining some of His benevolence down on me.
I think if He did it might look like this.

Wandering in the Darkness

Many times in my life, I have felt lost. After my parents died in 1994, only two months and a few days apart, I felt adrift and alone despite having a "supportive"husband and two small children. I was 24 when they died. I was an only child. I was strong beyond my years ...then.  I carried the burden of so many horrible things on my shoulders almost effortlessly...then. I had to do at 24 what I see people of fifty and sixty wailing about. Watch my parents die in front of me...go to the funeral home and buy caskets and plan funerals...bury them... watch as they were separated from me and mine forever when the dirt covered up those caskets. Cry as it rained the first night my Mother stayed beneath the Earth wondering if she was going to get wet...fearing for her even tho nothing in this mortal world could touch her and even if it did, it would only upset dead flesh. Not the Mother I knew...not the woman who loved me and cared for me. Not the one who always had my back. Not the one who made the best birthday meals for me because she genuinely loved me. Not the one whose hugs could erase a thousand mean words. Not the one that actually cared what I thought and how I felt and asked me about it often. But still it hurt me to know that the rain was falling on the Earth she now resided under.


I feel lost now...once again. I am adrift with no real plan or purpose in this world. Sometimes I wonder if I belong here at all. And then I tell myself how lucky I am to have two wonderful children and two wonderful granddaughters. I tell myself that it would be awful to leave this world without meeting the "peanut" my daughter is carrying...the number 3 grandchild. I tell myself that Kourtnei Kay needs me to be her Grammy or "Mimi" as she calls me, because Chance's Mother didn't have the opportunity to live to see her born and be her Grammy. 


But still...some nights... when I hear the hateful words of those who pretended to love me echo in my ears... sometimes I just feel the urge to let go... and to fly up to my Mother and have her hug me again. Yeah...I know it wouldn't happen that way. Hell would be my destination. A front row seat to fire and brimstone. But it doesn't hurt to dream of seeing her once again...of feeling her loving arms wrapped around me... of hearing her say my name and say to me that she loves me. I dream of sitting at the table and watching her drink coffee out of the cup I saved from all those years ago. I dream of talking to her as if no time has passed and that she still is my best friend and still knows my heart as she always did. I dream of showing her all the pictures on my iPad and telling her about all the things that I know she would love that have happened since she left me.
And maybe most of all... I want to tell her about my sorrows, and how he hurt me and have her wrap her arms around me and tell me it's okay and that I never really needed him and that everything will be alright.


I remember the day that she begged him to take care of me and he swore that he would. But he was a liar... and a thief and a bastard. And I have nothing to show for 25 years but scars on my heart and two daughters that I believe hung the moon. 


So I'm alone in the forest at midnight... and danger is everywhere. Will I find my way out? I guess only time will tell.