Monday, November 7, 2011
Jennifer Chandler
Larry Chandler
Permanent address:
Kingsland, Texas 78639
Secondary home address:
Larry & Jennifer Chandler Property
Dryden, Texas
To The Honorable Judge Corina Castro
P.O. Box 313
Sanderson, Texas 79848
Phone: 432-345-2341
As pertaining to citations numbered: 1013484 (Stannard) to Jennifer Chandler and 1012938 (Aguilar) to Larry Chandler, issued November 06, 2011.
My story:
Before daylight on Saturday, November 05, 2011, I woke my husband up so that he could go hunting. Our plan was that once our 10 year old son awoke, I would head down to Larry’s deer stand where he and I would change places, with Larry going back to camp to be with our 10 year old and allow me time to hunt.
After he left, I walked south a few hundred feet and squatted down near a mesquite bush/tree to watch our protein feeder. I was carrying my 223 Magnum rifle. As the dusky dawn begin turning to light, I watched three bucks walk up and begin to feed on the cotton seed at the protein feeder. A little after daylight, not sure of the exact time, a rifle shot was fired. A few minutes later, I heard the 8mm. I eased up and looked toward my husband’s stand with the binoculars, then walked back up toward the camp, veering right to walk about 100’ down the road toward the stand. A time lapse of between 5 and 10 minutes had passed, when I heard the 2nd shot from the 8mm. I stood there watching Larry’s stand and within seconds, I saw his door open. He could see me and waved, I waved back. Instead of going to where the deer was, he came back to camp for me. He said he had shot a buck and needed me to help him load it in the ‘Rhino’. We could see our older son walking back to camp, so we went back to camp to find our 10 year old still sleeping. I woke him enough to tell him that I was ‘going with Dad to his stand and (his older brother) was on his way back to camp.’ He mumbled an aggravated ‘Okay!”, pulled the covers over his head and went back to sleep.
On the way to the downed deer, Larry told me that he had shot the buck in the shoulder a few feet from the feeder. The buck didn’t go down immediately, but staggered around a few feet, before falling down and kicking up dust for several minutes. He said as he watched that spot, waiting for the deer to still, it suddenly popped it’s head up and he said that he thought, “Oh, no! He’s not dead yet!” and that is when he aimed for the head shot, which was his 2nd shot, to bring the buck down.
When Larry and I arrived at the feeder, I saw the body of a buck lying against a mesquite bush. As I was walking toward the buck, I stopped at a pool of frothy lung blood as well as pieces of lung tissue. Another two foot I found a smaller pool of lung blood with a larger piece of lung tissue. However, when I stepped to the downed buck, all I saw was a bullet wound to the head and an exit wound from the neck. I was surprised that the 8mm had left such a small exit wound as it has not in the past been normally so. I looked back at the blood pools with the lung tissue, then back at the downed deer and I told my husband, “There’s another deer out here.”
He stopped and looked at me and the look on his face was pure shock. He repeated what he had told me on the way to the downed buck, but I helped him roll the downed buck over and there were NO shoulder wounds, no other wounds that could account for the lung tissue. He became upset to the point of shaking and because I know that his health isn’t great and his eyesight is failing, I made a judgment call that was morally right, but would turn out to be legally wrong. I told him that I would put one of my buck tags on the downed deer.
He argued with me and told me that I couldn’t do that, but I refused to listen to him and before he probably realized what I was doing, I had tagged the deer with my tag. Because I have not hunted or held a hunting license since the mid to late 80’s, and because I had failed to wear my glasses, I did not read the fine print on the tag that says the date must be cut out as I was struggling enough trying to figure out the dates. I simply inked it in like we were allowed to do years ago.
There was NO force from my husband to do this. I did it because I saw how upset he was and did not wish to see him so.
At this point, though, he was still not 100% convinced that he had actually shot two deer and became a bit aggravated at me for tagging the buck so quickly. He felt sure that once he cleaned the buck he would find evidence that it did indeed have two bullet wounds.
It did not and he ended up even more upset that earlier.
My older son and I returned to the feeder and looked for the other deer for several hours, but found no blood trail past about 20’ from the original large pool of blood and tissue. The deer had zig-zagged, appearing to head to a small draw on the far eastern side of our property. We followed every trail, having to stop at the fence that marks our eastern property boundary. We looked in every thicket we could get in to, around every single bush and we found absolutely nothing. No blood, no deer, nothing.
My husband and I went back down there late that evening and again Sunday morning. We still found no deer and no sign of a wounded deer.
End of my story.
Sunday, November 06, 2011, just before noon, Game Wardens Stannard and Aguilar showed up and the now issued citations are evidence of their presence.
Mine for “Allowing another to hunt under my license” and Larry’s “Hunt under another license”.
My deer was confiscated as evidence, apparently donated to the starving game wardens of Terrell County. My husband was threatened with jail, confiscation of all our firearms and ice chests. Apparently we are supposed to be thankful for their leniency because we allowed them to sadistically humiliate us as they attempted to pit our children against us, as well as us against each other.
I just wonder how many children and parents they cite on youth weekend when daddy’s and momma’s actually hold, point & fire the weapon that brings down a nice buck or doe for Little Johnny or Little Betsy who can’t even lift a gallon milk jug from the refrigerator, let alone lift and hold steady a rifle or shotgun that kicks? Then, Pa or Ma fills out the kids tag, securing it to the deer, even having the kids face and name in the local paper as having killed said deer…when anyone with any degree of intelligence, especially anyone who has ever raised children, knows that Little Johnny or Little Betsy did not shoot that deer! But that’s okay because it allows the TPWD to teach our youngest kids that it’s okay to tell a ‘tiny white lie’ because it’s teaching them ‘be responsible, our next generation of hunters.’ Talk about double standards!
I will add this, not because it will matter to you, but since this letter will be made public as soon as it is completed, I will exert my right to freedom of speech and our story needs to be heard.
My 10 year old son was originally my grandson. He was coerced, bribed and intimidated so that his abuser could abuse him at will. Because I knew something was amiss, long story short, his abuser now sits in a prison cell in Huntsville, Texas. After years of prayer, tears, sleepless nights, physical tolls and thousands of dollars, he is now our legal son and he is SAFE, PROTECTED and LOVED! For anyone, regardless of what kind of badge they wear or gun they carry, to insinuate that my husband or I would EVER harm this child is not only ludicrous and insane, it is UNFORGIVABLE! Aguilar told my husband hat he had better not hear of our child being harmed or retaliated against for ‘telling the truth’.
Furthermore, for ANY person wearing a badge and calling themselves ANY type of law enforcement official to bribe and coerce a 10 year old child when said child remembers that this type of manipulation only leads to pain, horror and broken promises, as far as I am concerned, (as well as many Child Advocacy Centers across the state), that person needs to get out of law enforcement entirely, receive specialized training in how to deal with MINOR children or be thoroughly reprimanded!
*Aguilar supposedly ‘found’ my son behind our house, and begin questioning him about who killed said deer. My son was told by Aguilar that if he told the truth, Aguilar WOULD GIVE HIM A BADGE. My son also told me that he thinks Aguilar said, “Tell me who really shot the deer. It was your Dad wasn’t it?” Minutes later, my son was crying and asked me, “Are you and Dad going to jail?” I asked him why he would say that and he replied with a shaky shrug, “I think someone said it.”
I also saw Aguilar behind our house with my son and the look on my son’s face was one I’d seen before and it was one of fear. I looked up at Aguilar and he ‘scolded’ me, accusing me of giving my son the ‘look’ that I was giving Aguilar. Aguilar read that ‘look’ as my anger at my son for ‘telling the truth’, as well as my guilt. I REALLY wish he could have read that look for what it was!!! From what I remember upon studying the Texas Penal Code several years ago, a minor, especially one under 12 years of age, must have legal representation and/or another adult present any time said child is interrogated. And it was an interrogation as we were all sequestered and not allowed to speak with each other.
And the saddest, most hateful part of this is that Aguilar NEVER gave my son any badge! My son even told me today, “Mom, I guess the real liar was that game warden guy.” And I told my son, “Remember, just because a person carries a gun and wears a badge doesn’t mean you can trust them or believe them.”
My husband was told that he was ’selfish’ for ‘making me use my tag‘. I will defend this by saying that no one forced me to use my tag. I did it in opposition to my husband’s wishes.
My husband was told that the NEXT time ’they’ come out, we had better have EVERYTHING right or else. In other words, ‘they’ will be looking for reasons to harass, embarrass and fine us. Well, at least we now know the continual hell that will be meted out to our family, especially since we will eventually make Terrell County our permanent home!
Concerning the first deer that was shot and lost: Wardens told my husband he HAD to find that deer and tag it. When told that we had looked repeatedly, stopping only at property lines, Wardens said that we HAD to find and TAG that deer. When asked if they could help us, they refused saying that they were too busy. Aside from trespassing onto adjoining properties, we have exhausted all attempts at finding this deer.
My husband and I ARE NOT poachers. We ARE NOT illegal hunters. We ARE NOT lawbreakers. We ARE NOT day-leasers, but property owners as Terrell County tax rolls will prove. We make mistakes because we are human. Last year Stannard gave my husband a warning citation for not filling in a single line on his hunting license. Before Aguilar decided to find a crime where none truly existed, Stannard was in process of writing me a warning for inking in the dates on the tags, instead of cutting them out with my knife. Neither of these instances were ‘crimes’, but simple mistakes that hundreds of hunters make every hunting season. I know because I asked hunters in other counties, as well as a former game warden this very evening.
Just for the record, and because said game wardens insinuated that because I did not hunt last year I was incapable of hunting and killing a deer at all, they are both terribly mistaken! I begin hunting with my mother when I was about four or five, though I was closer to eight before I was allowed to actually carry & fire a weapon. Later, I would also hunt with my grandfather, aunt, brothers and husband. I have shot numerous poisonous snakes, wild hogs, coyotes, raccoons, possums and rabbits. Small game, of course, but something to brag about considering that the target’s heads were smaller…and yet my aim has most always been true and my prey does not get up and walk away. Many women, myself included, are far more accurate in marksmanship than men. I’ve allowed my husband to do all of the hunting for several years now as it satisfies his male ego to be able to provide meat for our table. Unfortunately, as I mentioned earlier, his health is declining, as is his eye sight, and I am not sure how much longer he will be able to provide meat for our table. THAT is the reason I bought my license, with HIS money I might add, this year.
As for our ten year old child saying that ‘Dad shot that deer’. He truly has no way of knowing who shot that deer. None at all. He was asleep in camp and only knows that Dad kills deer and Mom kills varmints. If I arrived in camp dragging a deer behind me while my husband stayed in camp tending to the ten year old, the ten year old would still assume and say that ‘Dad HAD to kill that deer because Mom only kills snakes.’
This entire chaotic episode could have been handled with far less drama. Aguilar was NOT looking for the truth, but to intimidate and bully. Despite any guilt or blamelessness, truths or untruths, morally right or governmental illegalities; coercion, bribery and intimidation of a child is totally unacceptable and completely unforgivable. Their goal was to write a citation, regardless of the reason. I think that on their next visit, which they have promised, if they fail to find issue with our hunting license, I’m sure they will find issue with the way I balance my checkbook, my gender or even my weight! Therefore, from this date forward, I will be chronicling their visits and posting them publicly.
The TRUTH of this entire matter is this…I am publicly admitting to tagging a 9 point buck, shot on our property in Dryden, Texas on the morning of November 05, 2011. I am publicly admitting to loving and protecting my husband and my children by admitting to a wrong in order to appease a couple of overzealous, bullying game wardens. And, I am publicly admitting that the truth is often stranger and much more complicated than fiction and often unable to be comprehended by the simpler minded within our society.
Finally, I have actively been trying to sell my home in Llano County AND in constant contact with Kenn Norris since March of this year as we hope to buy a permanent home within the town of Sanderson, Texas. After this episode, my husband was wanting to let our land go and never ever step foot again in Terrell County thinking these two wardens represent the types of people found in this area. But I think moving to Sanderson, Texas would be absolutely perfect as it will allow me the opportunity to blog about so many things, including my family’s experience with your game wardens.
My husband and I are at your mercy.
Sincerely,
Jennifer Chandler
Wednesday, November 9, 2011
Monday, October 3, 2011
People say...
People say it can't be done.
I say it can, but it won't be easy.
People say that we'll have to give up everything as we know it.
I say we'll have to give up the things that make us lazy & spoiled, while learning how to live a more efficient, frugal lifestyle.
People say we'll miss social activities.
I say we miss them now.
People say we'll suffer as we need socialization.
I say very often, socialization is highly overrated.
People say we'll be very lonely in such a remote area.
I say that the loneliest place on earth is living in a city, surrounded by people at every direction, yet not having a single friend who cares if you live or you die.
People say it can't be done.
I say...WATCH US DO IT!!!
I say it can, but it won't be easy.
People say that we'll have to give up everything as we know it.
I say we'll have to give up the things that make us lazy & spoiled, while learning how to live a more efficient, frugal lifestyle.
People say we'll miss social activities.
I say we miss them now.
People say we'll suffer as we need socialization.
I say very often, socialization is highly overrated.
People say we'll be very lonely in such a remote area.
I say that the loneliest place on earth is living in a city, surrounded by people at every direction, yet not having a single friend who cares if you live or you die.
People say it can't be done.
I say...WATCH US DO IT!!!
Possible Changes Ahead
Very close to making a life changing decision concerning where our home will be. If it works out, I'll be using this blog to journal our new experience.
Sunday, July 17, 2011
Wounds, Healing & Forgiveness
Every single time I share my testimony or a painful experience with a Christian, I am told that I need to forgive. They say they sense some deep unforgiveness within me and that I need to 'give it to God, let go and forgive'. This troubles me greatly as I have prayed through and gotten over, gotten past the grudge holding and KNOW in my heart that I have forgiven. But when I try to explain this, I am told that it is 'sensed' that I just have too much bitterness still and they 'feel' that I've not truly forgiven.
Well, let me explain something, once and for all...
Years ago my husband broke his ankle and he refused to go to the doctor. It healed, but it healed slowly. Who can say if it healed correctly or wrong, but it healed. A doctor even told him that about the only way to truly 'heal' a broken ankle was by surgery, screws and pins and that could often be more troublesome than allowing it to heal on it's own. But to this day, if he steps wrong or there is a sudden weather change, it hurts him. There are certain kinds of boots he can not wear or it tends to aggravate the old injury and sometimes after long walks & drives, that ankle swells. However, it is healed and he walks and he works. He can even run, but that ankle will always be weak and tender.
I had three babies, all by c-section. Each took me months to recover from; weeks for the incision to heal, months for the muscles to regain strength. Because the muscles had been severed, they will never again be as strong as they were before and to this day, that scar is sensitive. Scar tissue has formed and sometimes, if I move wrong, the pain is intense enough to take my breath away and make me cry. But, that incision is healed perfectly.
The same is true of wounds and hurts of our heart and mind.
Some are severe breaks. Some are deep stab wounds. Some are merely scratches and bruises. Sometimes the wound becomes infected and sometimes the wounds are aggravated by more woundings at the same site. Sometimes the wounds are picked at and sometimes they are just so deep that they must heal from the inside out before a protective scab can form, but often an ugly wide scar will remain. Regardless of the wound, each must go through a healing process and healing takes time.
However, no matter how well a wound heals, how invisible the scar might be, that area WILL ALWAYS BE SENSITIVE! It is just a fact of wounding, healing & scarring!
Just like my c-section scar. It healed beautifully twenty-two years ago, yet if I move wrong, or sneeze hard, the scar tissue pulls taunt and it feels as if I've ripped that incision open all over again!
That does not mean it has not healed. That does not mean that the wound is wide open. It is simply a fact of scar tissue.
The same is true with wounds of life.
I remember, with vivid detail, the wounds of my life. Some healed quickly and without any scarring. But others were never cleansed and never given time to heal before another wound was inflicted, and those wounds became infected, took longer to heal than they should have and left a very ugly scar...and the scar tissue still pulls taunt under the right circumstances, causing pain all over again. Of course, I know that the wound is healed, but the pain takes my breath away and causes me to remember the initial wound.
This does not mean that I have not forgiven. It simply means that my memory remains intact and it reminds me that there are areas of my life that will always be tender in order that I might have compassion for others suffering the same wounds and scars.
Perhaps the good thing about those who do not understand this thing about wounds, healing and scarring is that they themselves have not had to suffer wounds...The bad thing would be that they are in utter denial because we are all wounded to some degree. That is just a part of living this life.
Therefore, I am of the opinion that if I can love and pray for those who have caused my wounds, if my heart aches for the judgement they will one day suffer, then I HAVE most definitely FORGIVEN them...and it is only satan who pops his ugly head up to tell me I haven't forgiven in hopes that I will question my assurance and lie back down to wallow in the filthy mud that Jesus already cleaned up a long, long time ago!
Am I bitter?
Well, aren't we all a little bitter when we recall wounds of our past? I'm still a bit bitter when I remember falling down the steps and breaking 6 or 7 bones in my foot back in 2005! I was laid up all summer long and it hurt like the dickens. So yeah, I'm bitter about any injury I've ever suffered. But that's because I don't like pain of any sort. Doesn't mean I've not forgiven myself for not paying attention when I stepped wrong and fell down those stairs, just that I'm bitter recalling how careless I was at the time and how those bones sounded & felt when they broke!!!
Well, let me explain something, once and for all...
Years ago my husband broke his ankle and he refused to go to the doctor. It healed, but it healed slowly. Who can say if it healed correctly or wrong, but it healed. A doctor even told him that about the only way to truly 'heal' a broken ankle was by surgery, screws and pins and that could often be more troublesome than allowing it to heal on it's own. But to this day, if he steps wrong or there is a sudden weather change, it hurts him. There are certain kinds of boots he can not wear or it tends to aggravate the old injury and sometimes after long walks & drives, that ankle swells. However, it is healed and he walks and he works. He can even run, but that ankle will always be weak and tender.
I had three babies, all by c-section. Each took me months to recover from; weeks for the incision to heal, months for the muscles to regain strength. Because the muscles had been severed, they will never again be as strong as they were before and to this day, that scar is sensitive. Scar tissue has formed and sometimes, if I move wrong, the pain is intense enough to take my breath away and make me cry. But, that incision is healed perfectly.
The same is true of wounds and hurts of our heart and mind.
Some are severe breaks. Some are deep stab wounds. Some are merely scratches and bruises. Sometimes the wound becomes infected and sometimes the wounds are aggravated by more woundings at the same site. Sometimes the wounds are picked at and sometimes they are just so deep that they must heal from the inside out before a protective scab can form, but often an ugly wide scar will remain. Regardless of the wound, each must go through a healing process and healing takes time.
However, no matter how well a wound heals, how invisible the scar might be, that area WILL ALWAYS BE SENSITIVE! It is just a fact of wounding, healing & scarring!
Just like my c-section scar. It healed beautifully twenty-two years ago, yet if I move wrong, or sneeze hard, the scar tissue pulls taunt and it feels as if I've ripped that incision open all over again!
That does not mean it has not healed. That does not mean that the wound is wide open. It is simply a fact of scar tissue.
The same is true with wounds of life.
I remember, with vivid detail, the wounds of my life. Some healed quickly and without any scarring. But others were never cleansed and never given time to heal before another wound was inflicted, and those wounds became infected, took longer to heal than they should have and left a very ugly scar...and the scar tissue still pulls taunt under the right circumstances, causing pain all over again. Of course, I know that the wound is healed, but the pain takes my breath away and causes me to remember the initial wound.
This does not mean that I have not forgiven. It simply means that my memory remains intact and it reminds me that there are areas of my life that will always be tender in order that I might have compassion for others suffering the same wounds and scars.
Perhaps the good thing about those who do not understand this thing about wounds, healing and scarring is that they themselves have not had to suffer wounds...The bad thing would be that they are in utter denial because we are all wounded to some degree. That is just a part of living this life.
Therefore, I am of the opinion that if I can love and pray for those who have caused my wounds, if my heart aches for the judgement they will one day suffer, then I HAVE most definitely FORGIVEN them...and it is only satan who pops his ugly head up to tell me I haven't forgiven in hopes that I will question my assurance and lie back down to wallow in the filthy mud that Jesus already cleaned up a long, long time ago!
Am I bitter?
Well, aren't we all a little bitter when we recall wounds of our past? I'm still a bit bitter when I remember falling down the steps and breaking 6 or 7 bones in my foot back in 2005! I was laid up all summer long and it hurt like the dickens. So yeah, I'm bitter about any injury I've ever suffered. But that's because I don't like pain of any sort. Doesn't mean I've not forgiven myself for not paying attention when I stepped wrong and fell down those stairs, just that I'm bitter recalling how careless I was at the time and how those bones sounded & felt when they broke!!!
Friday, July 1, 2011
In defense of a small Texas town...
As I wander through this little world of mine, I am often perplexed at the arrogance and narrowmindedness of people. I've often found that this arrogance and narrowmindedness actually lends themselves to a better definition of complete and total stupidity!
One instance of this would be a small town...A small town that I have loved since I was a child. A town that seems to call for me, almost as if it is beckoning me to 'come home'.
Some years ago, this town was a thriving town, considering it's location. But as the years passed by and 'progress' happened, it has slowly dwindled.
There is a public school there. Some say it is great. Others say, not so much. Regardless, it isn't filled with gangster wanna-be's or big time drug dealers and the classrooms are small and manageable.
The rail road still travels through there and Amtrack has a Whistle Stop.
There is a bank, a post office, a court house, a couple of convenience stores, a feed store, a good dependable eatery, and a few other small places of business. But a metroplex it is not.
There is a nice park for the kids and an even better hiking trail to the top of a hill/mountain that overlooks the town. There is a quaint visitors center where a sweet lady can tell you just about anything factual you want to know about the area and the county. There is an RV park, a place to refill your propane bottles and there is a place that can work on your auto & tires. There are two real estate offices in the town as well.
There is a Hunter's Feast in the fall and a few other interesting gatherings throughout the year that can be fun for all and profitable for the town.
And there are some really wonderful people there...Unfortunately, not all of the wonderful people hold positions of leadership or status, which is a shame.
The largest convenience store & gas station is without a doubt the slowest, most aggravating convenience store I've ever had the displeasure of doing business with!
One of the realtors, while a kind and likable man, is also the least prompt businessman I've ever had to deal with!
A real estate agent once showed me a property & when said agent found out that I was a simple housewife and could offer neither big money or trade to the town, she was more or less done with me!
A business owner had a property I was interested in, but when I went to his business to inquire about it, he was busy shooting the bull with another person and never acknowledged my presence.
I recently sent another business owner an idea that would possibly help the town recieve good attention, since they are constantly saying they want tourism, and he scoffed at my idea. More or less said it was a silly idea & he wasn't interested in wide publicity for the town.
One person even told me, when I complained about the lack of prompt attention to a business matter, "We're a small town. We do things a lot slower in small towns than y'all do in big cities."
This struck me as hilarious because, you see, the town I grew up in, the town I often refer to as my 'home' was so small it wasn't even considered a town! Just a 'settlement'! But I well remember that if you called someone, they called you back immediately. If you walked into the store on the corner, they looked up and welcomed you or at the least, made eye contact with you. If you were new to the area, someone would stop in to welcome you. It might be your next door neighbor or the white haired ladies from the Baptist Church, but someone would take the time to say, "Welcome!" And if there was a 'happening', everyone called everyone else and got the word out. We wanted to be recognized & we liked as much piblicity as we could get!
So, as I ponder this subject, I find that this town might very well die, eventually, if these arrogant, selfserving people with their rude attitudes and lack of Texan-styled hospitality are allowed to represent this beautiful little town indefinitely.
If tourist passing through can not be waited on in a timely and polite manner, they will realize that they'd better stock up before leaving the big town and use their bank cards at the pumps.
If a realtor can not return your correspondence within 24 hours, regardless, then how in the heck can he sell properties?
If a realtor's agent isn't interested in your purchasing property because you aren't wealthy and can not or will not be bringing a business to the town, wouldn't that give anyone pause about relocating there to send their kids to a small, safe school?
If a 'leader' in the community was only interested in his chosen, and very limited, vocation in getting any word of this town, it's happenings & events out to the world, only because he fears it would cost him dollars in revenue, wouldn't that be selfserving and just a bit greedy? Especially if the proposed idea was free & had the ability to create more tourism for the town???
In closing, as crazy as it might sound, I would still like to one day be a resident of this town because I kind of have the feeling that they need an outspoken old woman like myself! I might not be able to change anything, but I guarantee you, I'd sure give 'em hell!!!
One instance of this would be a small town...A small town that I have loved since I was a child. A town that seems to call for me, almost as if it is beckoning me to 'come home'.
Some years ago, this town was a thriving town, considering it's location. But as the years passed by and 'progress' happened, it has slowly dwindled.
There is a public school there. Some say it is great. Others say, not so much. Regardless, it isn't filled with gangster wanna-be's or big time drug dealers and the classrooms are small and manageable.
The rail road still travels through there and Amtrack has a Whistle Stop.
There is a bank, a post office, a court house, a couple of convenience stores, a feed store, a good dependable eatery, and a few other small places of business. But a metroplex it is not.
There is a nice park for the kids and an even better hiking trail to the top of a hill/mountain that overlooks the town. There is a quaint visitors center where a sweet lady can tell you just about anything factual you want to know about the area and the county. There is an RV park, a place to refill your propane bottles and there is a place that can work on your auto & tires. There are two real estate offices in the town as well.
There is a Hunter's Feast in the fall and a few other interesting gatherings throughout the year that can be fun for all and profitable for the town.
And there are some really wonderful people there...Unfortunately, not all of the wonderful people hold positions of leadership or status, which is a shame.
The largest convenience store & gas station is without a doubt the slowest, most aggravating convenience store I've ever had the displeasure of doing business with!
One of the realtors, while a kind and likable man, is also the least prompt businessman I've ever had to deal with!
A real estate agent once showed me a property & when said agent found out that I was a simple housewife and could offer neither big money or trade to the town, she was more or less done with me!
A business owner had a property I was interested in, but when I went to his business to inquire about it, he was busy shooting the bull with another person and never acknowledged my presence.
I recently sent another business owner an idea that would possibly help the town recieve good attention, since they are constantly saying they want tourism, and he scoffed at my idea. More or less said it was a silly idea & he wasn't interested in wide publicity for the town.
One person even told me, when I complained about the lack of prompt attention to a business matter, "We're a small town. We do things a lot slower in small towns than y'all do in big cities."
This struck me as hilarious because, you see, the town I grew up in, the town I often refer to as my 'home' was so small it wasn't even considered a town! Just a 'settlement'! But I well remember that if you called someone, they called you back immediately. If you walked into the store on the corner, they looked up and welcomed you or at the least, made eye contact with you. If you were new to the area, someone would stop in to welcome you. It might be your next door neighbor or the white haired ladies from the Baptist Church, but someone would take the time to say, "Welcome!" And if there was a 'happening', everyone called everyone else and got the word out. We wanted to be recognized & we liked as much piblicity as we could get!
So, as I ponder this subject, I find that this town might very well die, eventually, if these arrogant, selfserving people with their rude attitudes and lack of Texan-styled hospitality are allowed to represent this beautiful little town indefinitely.
If tourist passing through can not be waited on in a timely and polite manner, they will realize that they'd better stock up before leaving the big town and use their bank cards at the pumps.
If a realtor can not return your correspondence within 24 hours, regardless, then how in the heck can he sell properties?
If a realtor's agent isn't interested in your purchasing property because you aren't wealthy and can not or will not be bringing a business to the town, wouldn't that give anyone pause about relocating there to send their kids to a small, safe school?
If a 'leader' in the community was only interested in his chosen, and very limited, vocation in getting any word of this town, it's happenings & events out to the world, only because he fears it would cost him dollars in revenue, wouldn't that be selfserving and just a bit greedy? Especially if the proposed idea was free & had the ability to create more tourism for the town???
In closing, as crazy as it might sound, I would still like to one day be a resident of this town because I kind of have the feeling that they need an outspoken old woman like myself! I might not be able to change anything, but I guarantee you, I'd sure give 'em hell!!!
Wednesday, June 15, 2011
Laughing Owl
Laughing - To express certain emotions, especially mirth or delight, by a series of spontaneous, usually unarticulated sounds often accompanied by corresponding facial and bodily movements.
To show or feel amusement or good humor.
To feel a triumphant or exultant sense of well-being.
To affect or influence by laughter.
The act and the sound of laughing; laughter.
OWL - denotes wisdom, a symbol of knowledge, heightened observational skills, introspective, brooding, can see in the dark, developed awareness, high spiritual enlightenment It can also mean to use more judgment in a life situation. In the negative, it represents nocturnal "furtive' habits, solitude, silent flight, a plaintive 'harbinger of death' cry, and symbolize a turning away from spiritual light.
To show or feel amusement or good humor.
To feel a triumphant or exultant sense of well-being.
To affect or influence by laughter.
The act and the sound of laughing; laughter.
OWL - denotes wisdom, a symbol of knowledge, heightened observational skills, introspective, brooding, can see in the dark, developed awareness, high spiritual enlightenment It can also mean to use more judgment in a life situation. In the negative, it represents nocturnal "furtive' habits, solitude, silent flight, a plaintive 'harbinger of death' cry, and symbolize a turning away from spiritual light.
Names....
Names can be peculiar.
When we are born, our 'civilized' parents give us names that THEY like and if we are fortunate, those names will fit us and not be too awfully repulsive to us as we grow older and wiser and then have a chance to name our own children.
When I was a child, I found my name acceptable, but often dreamed of it being something more...such as Holly or Jessica, Jacqueline or Molly, Shiloh or Rebecca...I even found it ironic that had my mother had her way, she would have named me Rebecca and it sometimes saddened me that she did not.
Later, when I begin to write fictional stories, I named my characters Molly, Jessica, Jacqueline, Holly and Rebecca, just to name a few. I could live through these women and I could be them because I could envision myself called by these names that I'd given them.
Later, as my writing sometimes took on a more personal note and not always of kind and generous nature, I became a little fearful of what might happen if one day, out of sheer curiosity, one of my antagonist read something written by me about them! Even if I changed names to protect the guilty, they would know their crimes and their sins and they would be riled!
Along about this time, I also discovered some very interesting data concerning my ancestors and I finally had a clear reason why I'd always been drawn to certain groups and embraced certain codes for living. It finally made sense. I finally understood. The blood that flows through me, while diluted, still flows.
It occured to me one night, as I was conversing with a woman whose ancestral blood was thicker than my own, that I COULD have another name and it could be one that fit me, one that embraced me, one that meant something to ME!
She gave me a two worded name, but I was unhappy with the 2nd. It simply did not fit who I am or who I have ever been. But the first name? She couldn't have been more accurate!
I had had an encounter with an animal that left me with more questions than answers. I was advised to study this creature and study it well for it was possible that God was trying to tell me something about myself; impart a little wisdom, warn me of foolish behavior, remind me of my strengths and challenge me to strengthen those things within me that were weak.
And so I studied this creature, and the more I studied it, the more I saw pieces of my own personality made evident by this creature.
It's strengths were strengths I possessed, though not many people ever take the time to know me well enough to see. It's weaknesses were similar to my own and sadly, more people see this part of my nature than I'd like.
And so, one night it just hit me...This creature would be my 2nd name.
I wrote it down. I liked how it looked. It felt right. It felt comfortable. It felt like the true me that people seldom, if ever see.
I added the 3rd name as tribute to my ancestor, as well as in memory of a Great man whose words in the 1700's would prove absolutely prophetic as they all came true!
There are few that know that I am of two names and of those few, a couple have laughed at me...thought me silly and I little (or maybe a lot) off in the head. But that is okay because I am who I am, of dual nature and always ready to break the molds of society's expectations and the 'way things are done'.
I can call myself any old thing I want to call myself...My birth given name that my parents chose for me and put on my legal, recorded birth certificate, AND the name I chose for myself with the help of someone who was blessed by a certain aspect of my personality and by a creature that God sent into my path for an encounter I will not soon forget.
So laugh, if you will, and wallow around in your skepticism and critical judgement...It will have no effect on me as I observe you closely and laugh for the pure joy of laughing:)
When we are born, our 'civilized' parents give us names that THEY like and if we are fortunate, those names will fit us and not be too awfully repulsive to us as we grow older and wiser and then have a chance to name our own children.
When I was a child, I found my name acceptable, but often dreamed of it being something more...such as Holly or Jessica, Jacqueline or Molly, Shiloh or Rebecca...I even found it ironic that had my mother had her way, she would have named me Rebecca and it sometimes saddened me that she did not.
Later, when I begin to write fictional stories, I named my characters Molly, Jessica, Jacqueline, Holly and Rebecca, just to name a few. I could live through these women and I could be them because I could envision myself called by these names that I'd given them.
Later, as my writing sometimes took on a more personal note and not always of kind and generous nature, I became a little fearful of what might happen if one day, out of sheer curiosity, one of my antagonist read something written by me about them! Even if I changed names to protect the guilty, they would know their crimes and their sins and they would be riled!
Along about this time, I also discovered some very interesting data concerning my ancestors and I finally had a clear reason why I'd always been drawn to certain groups and embraced certain codes for living. It finally made sense. I finally understood. The blood that flows through me, while diluted, still flows.
It occured to me one night, as I was conversing with a woman whose ancestral blood was thicker than my own, that I COULD have another name and it could be one that fit me, one that embraced me, one that meant something to ME!
She gave me a two worded name, but I was unhappy with the 2nd. It simply did not fit who I am or who I have ever been. But the first name? She couldn't have been more accurate!
I had had an encounter with an animal that left me with more questions than answers. I was advised to study this creature and study it well for it was possible that God was trying to tell me something about myself; impart a little wisdom, warn me of foolish behavior, remind me of my strengths and challenge me to strengthen those things within me that were weak.
And so I studied this creature, and the more I studied it, the more I saw pieces of my own personality made evident by this creature.
It's strengths were strengths I possessed, though not many people ever take the time to know me well enough to see. It's weaknesses were similar to my own and sadly, more people see this part of my nature than I'd like.
And so, one night it just hit me...This creature would be my 2nd name.
I wrote it down. I liked how it looked. It felt right. It felt comfortable. It felt like the true me that people seldom, if ever see.
I added the 3rd name as tribute to my ancestor, as well as in memory of a Great man whose words in the 1700's would prove absolutely prophetic as they all came true!
There are few that know that I am of two names and of those few, a couple have laughed at me...thought me silly and I little (or maybe a lot) off in the head. But that is okay because I am who I am, of dual nature and always ready to break the molds of society's expectations and the 'way things are done'.
I can call myself any old thing I want to call myself...My birth given name that my parents chose for me and put on my legal, recorded birth certificate, AND the name I chose for myself with the help of someone who was blessed by a certain aspect of my personality and by a creature that God sent into my path for an encounter I will not soon forget.
So laugh, if you will, and wallow around in your skepticism and critical judgement...It will have no effect on me as I observe you closely and laugh for the pure joy of laughing:)
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