The End of Words

It really should say welcome back...

Have you ever heard the saying End of Days? Surely you have, I have felt that way about my true "words" for some time now, like I just got to the end of them and there were no more. It was very much like getting to the end of the rainbow and finding no pot of gold.

I thought after "the ordeal" was over that life as I knew it would get back to normal and the words would be there in over abundant stock. This is where I have to tell you that I was wrong, very very wrong. Firstly, and mainly, because "the ordeal" is not over nor will it ever be over in a sense that it no longer has an impact on my life because it was a huge part of my world and it played a role in making me who I am today. For awhile now I have allowed "the ordeal" to almost completely define who I am, even when that is not the case. It has taken me almost 2 years not to be prisoner to "the ordeal" any longer and by breaking the binds that held me for so long now I almost feel as if I was part of some mass covert operation to FREE THE WORDS!!! (Yes I just saw picketers with signs marching around my brain)

A beautiful friend once told me "once you get settled mentally there, it will flow just like the tide" she was right. As I walked the beach this past week (and fell victim to my wandering brain and rogue large waves) words started flying at me.. at first they were ARRGGGHH! COLD! WET! IDIOT! but then they calmed down a bit and the frighten shrieks of the hidden voice in my head calmed to a whisper and the words flowed more like the tide and less like a tsunami.

So as the words come I will let them flow here where you have the joy (aka excruciating pain) of reading them but if you come by just to look at the pretty pictures you can try here Gone Coastal... One Shot at a Time. While there will be a photo on all my posts it is more about the words here and me being me and it is more about the photos there and what I see. I was going to mix the two but lets face it some people just don't care about my words much.

On that note.. MUCHO LOVE TO ALL OF YOU who do care about my words and endured the pain of reading every last word today and who have been waiting patiently for me and my words to return to my new normal.

Proof this photographer is an idiot....

or maybe proof I do not deserve the title of photographer!


Ok so "you ain't gonna believe this shit...." this morning I set my alarm extra early on the first day of my vacation so that I could go capture the sunrise. I am typically an early riser to begin with so not much of a big deal getting the shots most of the time, however, this is a special vacation so there is a chance I will be sleeping until noon the rest of the time. By special vacation I mean the first REAL vacation I have taken in ... well ever... with no children, no parents, no agenda, no plan (unless of course you consider getting up at 5 am to take pictures a plan). The motto for this little trip of mine is "Arrive Thursday, Leave Sunday" which has absolutely nothing to do with the real days of arrival and departure but everything to do with arriving and leaving being the only plan there is and really those are subject to change.



The alarm clock goes off this morning, which is the sound of waves now thanks to CBWs alarm clock and my inventive mind to record it to my phone. You, however, would not believe how confusing it is to someone on the ocean that can hear waves outside the window to all of a sudden hear waves in side the window, I am considering changing it for the duration of my stay to something more suitable, like nothing. I am up and grab my camera off the table and my phone because I do enjoy sending Good Morning photos via text sometimes and out the door I go!


The sky is beautiful, pinks and oranges glowing, as I make my way closer to the beach the waves get louder and I am full of anticipation of that first look over the dunes, that first perfect shot. Apparently I have more anticipation than I do common sense because as I lifted the camera to take that last shot right before you crest the dune my camera reads.. E. E FOR ERROR! WTH??????

You ain't gonna believe this shit but I left the damn memory card in my computer!!!!!


I do not deserve the title of photographer.

Much to my complete and utter..

(or is it udder?) dismay the very first "You ain't going to believe this shit... " story is UNBLOGGABLE! The madness that ensued last night is beyond words actually, however, it would probably make a good in person story, sorta like the Madd Dogg 20/20 story but different. If you need to understand how completely unbloggable the story is, please see the title of this post and the fact that I am not sure which to use, "udder" or "utter".

My trip down was pretty unevent..... WAIT! STOP THE PRESSES! I do have an "You ain't going to believe this shit..." story I can throw at you.

You ain't going to believe this shit but, in my travels yesterday there was involvement of cheap clothes, wine, a hula hoop purchase, and a pit stop to take tractor pictures and that isn't even the cool part! I was more than what you would call excited about arriving at my destination and spending much needed Sisper time, well, with my Sisper. My mind was on the prize HOME TO MY SISPER, ok ok, my sisper and an ice cold Smirrinoff but that is beside the point.

I was flying down 168 on my broom in the Acura and making some really good time when upon the Washington Wright Memorial Bridge I do descend. The sky was beautiful with an amazing sunset that I could not stop and capture due to being on the bridge but that, again, is beside the point... thump thump thump over the bridge I go (you know that sound your car makes on a bridge right?) then up the big hill on the bridge and WAM!!!! there they are.. HUNDREDS... THOUSANDS... BUNCHES.. of bats flying out from under the bridge! BATS! Have I mentioned I LOVE BATS!!!!!!

I didn't hit any bats because bats aren't something you easily hit. I did, however, want bring the broom Acura to a screeching halt right there and get a shot or 346 of the bats with this amazing sunset! I glanced behind me and it just wasn't going to happen. sigh.

Ok so not the best "You ain't going to believe this shit..." story but it is going to have to do!

So today you are stuck with an OBX sunrise and a tractor.




Update: Here is another photo of last nights happenings that was found after the original blog post.. does this say anything????

Cleaning...

Varrrrruuummmmmmmm (running vacuum)
Swish swish swish swish (sweeping)
Poff poff poff (dusting)
Squee squee squee (mopping)

Ok that should about do it... all cleaned out and off, ready for a fun filled stay in OBX. Photos and stories to ensue shortly with many a post probably starting with: "You ain't gonna believe this shit...."

Self Portrait Project

I know that some of you saw these on Facebook and wondered what in the world is all that about.. well I am here on the blog to tell you, not that it was any big secret because I think most women have this issue but I hate the way I look in photos. (ok that is a fib I just typically hate the way I look in general but for the sake of keeping this short we will just say in photos ok??)

I have been working on trying to stay in a more positive mind set recently (four days really but who's counting) and while it is hard work I am determined to see this through and wake up in the morning with a positive thought and go to sleep with a positive thought, and have the other thoughts in between positive as well. I am sure I will miss the "I am going to spork your eyeball out if you don't shut up!" thoughts from time to time but for right now I am packing them in a trunk and moving on to warm puppies and rainbows.

So here is where the project came in, I realized that one of the things I am most negative about is ME. I actually had THREE people in two days ask me why I was so hard on myself. I didn't even realize I had been that negative about my thoughts of myself, but apparently I have been, according to Facebook. I couldn't think of anything specific I had said and while I asked them to point it out they really couldn't find a post (I mean there are thousands ya know) but I figured with three separate people saying it, that were not connected, there must be some truth in it.

On Monday I was feeling a bit more like the old me than has been the norm for months so I hopped in my car and went to Haven Beach to take some photos of ghosts whatever caught my eye, when nothing seemed quite right for photo taking, I did the unthinkable, I turned the camera around backwards and took nothing but photos of me. I called it the "Self Portrait Project" for lack of a better title and decided I was going to process them and post some on Facebook regardless of how I felt about them. The longer they have stayed up the better I have felt, not because of the comments (which were great by the way) but just because I was seeing me in a bit of a different like (aside from the fact that I have realized I have freaky ass blue eyes that I never noticed until I removed all color except from my eyes in a photo) but I feel like that little project in it self has helped me, I can't promise I won't run from a camera pointed at me anymore but I am going to try to be a little less camera shy and not so critical of myself.

The way I figure it, in order for other people to love me the way I want and need them too, I need to also, it is not fair to ask them to do something I don't really do myself. Ya know?

Anyway without further ado, the photos.

Weird things just happen to us...

First let me back track and say that a certain sweet young lady contacted me directly yesterday about where my blog had been. I had to explain that it fell into the large dark hole I like to call life and that I just did not emotionally have it in me to write squat. Unfortunately at a very young age she already knew what I was saying and understood completely, however, it sparked something in me and I thought to myself "Really?? Why is it when you blog you focus on the yucky? Why when you write does it come out depressing? There are still amazing things happening around you all the time yet you tend to focus on the tragedy that has been the last year." I answered myself because that is what I do.. I said.. "I dunno." Yes I still wonder daily why that is my children's only answer to anything, knowing full well they get that from me.

So here I am again, asking your forgiveness for a too long break, for not being able to oversee... wait a damn minute this is my damn blog .. if you don't like the fact I took another long break click the X!

So right around the time that the conversation surrounding my blog was going on something happened.. I got an email from CBW who I have a bizarre connection with that none of the adults in our lives (I say adults because they were adults when we were born) will neither confirm nor deny is biological. I always find emails from her an extra special treat but in this one she actually asked me to work. (Like I really need something else to do besides wallow in my own stinky self pity).

The email started like this..
Hey stupid get out of that pool of pity and do something for me... Ok Ok no it really didn't but it probably should have.

The email actually said..
"Hey help me out here will ya?" in so many words :)

So I scanned down the email which was from a lovely yet slightly confused gentleman in Seattle named Mark. It was a long email and I was in the middle of wallowing so I just skimmed it at first I picked out words like Mathews, brothers, Hudgins, photo, lighthouse, trash, Guniea, and fish. I figured by those that some how this dude was connected to Mathews in some way and had a photo of Hudgins brothers that he took on top of the lighthouse as they were collecting trash that the fish from Guinea left there.

What?? I said I was busy when I was reading it. I figured I would take a glance at the photo and then archive it for when my Daddy was close by (that is CBWs boyfriend by the way) and ask who the dudes were. I scrolled down the email and glanced at the thumbnail and my heart skipped a beat.. then another.. and as I opened the photo to full size I let out an audible *GASP*. This wasn't any old ordinary set of "Hudgins" brothers I was looking at!

I immediately let my fingers fly over the keyboard with a reply back to CBW which in turned stopped her heart for a beat or two or 50 cause it took me that long to actually call her after getting the email that said..
ARE YOU F'ING (insert whole word here) KIDDING ME??? IS THIS IS SOME KIND OF JOKE??? WHERE CAN I CALL YOU???
Yes that is exactly what the email said.. to the letter and looking back on it, it does read more like I am going to choke her out of anger than it was simply shock but shock it was. So I finally call the poor trembling CBW and screamed into the phone IS THIS A JOKE??? I think she squeaked I am not all together sure at that point cause I just kept rambling on.

Below is the photo that was attached to that email and I won't go into the rest of the conversation with CBW because it was slightly uneventful after that build up (it was filled with lots of NOO! NOOO! REALLY?? NO!!! WOW's) but let me just end by saying that she hung up with relief and her heart beating again.


I am going to include most of my email back to Seattle Mark so you have full understand of why the shock and why I called him a little confused and why I keep referring to the men as "Hudgins" in quotes like that is a bad thing (it isn't.. he was just wrong).

Anyway Janice looking for a little help forwarded me the photo of the "Hudgins" brothers for help in identity.
First let me say.. Last name isn't Hudgins.. it was Burroughs and while my name is now Ann Marie Haywood it WAS Ann Marie Burroughs.
That photo was taken on Davis Creek in Bavon (or Motorun depending how old the map is) at Morris Snows Dock (his boat was the Linda Carol) the boat in the photo is more than likely the Virginia considering the amount of junk in her. The house in the background now belongs too Bill Battle and he has bees.. lots of bees.. he is the local honey man.

The very handsome gentleman to your right there.. I called Pop until the day he died on July 5th 2005, my daddy called him Daddy, his given name was Lemual Winn Burroughs (which was recycled by my great grandparents as they had another son who died at a young age with the same name) but everyone called him Snooks.

The other handsome friendly looking fella is my Uncle Bill, he was Pop's brother and technically my great uncle but calling someone Great Uncle around these parts just is not done. So he was uncle Bill. I still have the silver quarters he and another brother (Bubba Duck don't ask... I couldn't tell ya) gave me as a child on that very dock. When I would go down to help sort the fish pay was a drink from the drink machine.. the old kind where you pulled the bottle straight out and it had the bottle top opener on it, you were given 2 quarters one silver one regular one for the machine one to take home. Good thing they had the key to that little box cause more than once a mix up happened.

So there ya have it.. Burroughs Brothers not Hudgins and they were pound net fisherman.. along with my Great Granfather Henry Owens (not Pops daddy.. my grandmothers)
They ran Burroughs Brothers Seafood.

And now you all know why I cussed and scared poor CBW to with in an inch of her life and that I ramble on in email as badly as I do my blog and that yesterday while getting a shock I got a very special secret treasure!!!!

Happy Friday!!
Re

Hey there Ho there...

noooooo NOT me. Jeesh.. It is just a saying people.

So I have a question for you guys, just because I am at a stumbling block right now with this. "Are words ever meant to be trusted or does action have to take place prior to belief?"

I ask you this because over the past couple of years I have heard words repeated to me over and over in the forms of "It won't happen again." or "I am truly sorry" or "I love you" and there was no actions taken to show me that any of those words were true and that has left me with what appears to be the inability to trust or believe the words of anyone. What's that saying about one bad apple again?

You may walk up to me and say something as simple as "Your hair looks nice today." and I will spend the next hour in the bathroom trying to figure out what is wrong with it. Maybe you said "You are really funny" and my brain hears "Will you please just shut up you are making my ears bleed, you couldn't make a hyena laugh!" and lets not forget the "You are pretty." thing because quite honestly that is supposed to be followed up sometime shortly with "You are the nastiest thing around I don't know why you are alive." I suppose my biggest place of untrust (it isn't mistrust I haven't trusted to mis it yet LOL) is when people say "I will be here for you" I THOUGHT that was what "til death do us part" meant too, trust me when I say that isn't necessarily the case if you can manage to escape.

I hope that one day I can trust in words again, words are a beautiful thing, in the form of a book, a poem, a song, a story, a speech, and a simple 3 word phrase (not to mention blogs). Trust is something I always had when it came to words I believed in the passion and love and knowledge behind them, now I have had to face to darkness, the hatred, and the abuse behind them and much like a large rabid dog would rip apart a sweet fragile dove, my fragile belief in words has been shattered.

Some of you are probably reading this thinking to yourself well isn't she just a bitch for not believing I am here after all this time, after every time I told her to call, after every time I told her that I would always be here. I just want to say to you all I truly truly apologize, this is NOT the way I wanted to feel this is the road that life has taken me down at the moment and I am sure that there has to be a path to the road of trust again but at this moment I have not found it.

I at least pray there is a path back to trust because I really do not enjoy being this way, until then, I suppose I should be from the "Show Me State" or maybe "Eastern State" who's to say.

Welcome to hell where it all starts to come out...

Today is Wednesday which is another day closer to Friday which is another day closer a three day weekend which is 3 days I can actually sleep in but probably won't because by then my insomnia will be back and I will be wide awake at 4 am.

Most of you know I have moved, as in physically away from the little township I called "home" for more years of my life than I can remember. Bavon for me was where I felt I belonged where I felt I could breath, where I felt I could be me. I think part of that feeling had to do with being close to the water. I have always been close to the water when I lived here in Virginia within walking distance and for the last 5 years spitting distance. (yes I measure things in spitting distance sometimes.. doesn't everyone) Today I am much farther than spitting distance and walking would just prove to be a burden, because the closest water to me is flanked by private property and I am not sure the current owners would even begin to understand my draw.

I can always get in my car and drive to the beach or the water but some how that feeling is just not the same. Not being able to look out from my office window and see a tiny sliver of water is disheartening to me. I know it sounds like a tiny little thing in life but to me it is just much bigger. The water is yet one more thing that has been ripped away from me by no fault of my own, unless you consider love a fault. Which these days I consider it a curse so I can see how someone may feel it is a fault.

Someone close to me told me that through this process of grieving I would feel many feelings but the three main phases I will shift through as this process goes on are; sadness, anger and just plain "I don't give a damns". For the first week or more it was complete sadness, I thought over and over that I would never get to anger or the "I don't give a damns" but I am here to tell you they come, even when you think they won't. You could be sitting there minding your own business yakking away on Facebook making a fool of yourself and all of a sudden you are so angry that the only thing that you see is red. Over nothing... someone could have just posted how pleased they were that their spouse changed their drawers (by drawers I mean underwear people) and you could be so angry that you just want to tell them and their clean drawers clad spouse to take a flying leap. I don't think this anger has anything to do with the fact that someone has changed their skivves, but the fact that the other someone has someone in their life that they can be proud of. It has been too many days since I was able to say I was proud of my spouse.

I am sure this is just the beginning of a long twisty turny road on the way to happiness but the truth of the matter is it is happening. It is happening to me. It is not something I can actually hide as I am a typically in your face kind of person and while I do in a sense hide behind laughter and jokes the rest of this is right here at the surface all waiting to spill out. Just this week I received a text asking me why I had posted on Facebook that I had moved. At first I didn't really recall posting that specifically but I may have, then I was asked why I would put something so personal about THEM out there for the world to see. "Excuse me.. about YOU.. ABOUT YOU?? You are kidding me right... so this is still all about you.

I was the one that had to leave my home, I was the one that had to explain to the people closest to me the truth, I was the one that wakes up at night to traffic not frogs (not that I like frogs mind you but I dislike traffic more), I am the one that daily finds something I wish I had with me, from something as big as my baby dog (which by the way I wish you would stop using as a pawn) to as little as my cutting board because it is red and cute. Yet some how, you feel you are the victim in this scenario and I have no right to talk about how I feel, where I am or better yet WHY I am where I am. Guess what buddy.. I woke up angry so SCREW YOU."

Today I came back here, to this blog after posting yesterday for the first time in months wondering if I existed.. wondering if my thoughts were still alive.. wondering if my life needed telling.. I have mulled that over since and I have decided there may be many things I may lose in the situation as it stands today, my water, my home, my dog, even my cute little red cutting board but the most important thing I won't allow him to take is ME, and part of me is this part of my life and I won't apologize for that to anyone.

So for now.. I am back.
Re

Do I even exist?

I am trying to figure out if I even exist here anymore.
I used to have this funny little witty side to me..
I have lost that.

I need to find that in order to keep this blog alive cause really who wants to read about sadness, upheaval, chaos, and drama all day every day.. hell I don't even want to write about it.

Miss you all much.
Re