Halloween Challenge: Graveyard


Greetings from Niceville!


Link: JNW’s Halloween Challenge: Graveyard

Once upon a time, I lived near the Moors of Yorkshire– a beautiful, heathered, but also atmospheric and haunted, landscape.  I lived in Ripon, an old, old market town with this beautiful cathedral where we attended church (and I even taught children’s Sunday School).

We usually entered the cathedral from the side opposite the graveyard, but on the rare occasion we’d venture a walk past the eerie tombs on the cathedral’s downward slope.

Our new environs in Florida are . . .nice.  But some days, you yearn for a touch of sinister.

Happy Halloween!

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words or what is your favorite quote?

Perfect post to start a new week–reblogged from 2me4art.

making it up as i go


„the pen is mightier than the sword“

well, of course it is. the sword was created for one thing only, destroy. the pen…words can both destroy or create. words can contain incredible power. words can be used to decimate, dominate, debilitate & bring you to your knees. once you’ve hit the floor, some words can then pound you into it. words can trigger fight or flight, but without strength, nor wings to fly, i suppose i’d prefer the sword.  words can bring joy, love, trust. words spoken with great wisdom, can bring you to your knees, in awe.


he looks wise. i suppose we were all born like this monkey. our parents spoke babble, then words of love. then words to teach. school takes us further with language,  giving us the tools to survive in this world. does it end there? is this as high as we can go?


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Lines Were Drawn: Simserhof and La Ligne Maginot

Travels and Tomes: One Expat's Amblings and Ramblings

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You have to draw a line somewhere, right?  And we’re a funny species…we draw lines everywhere.  But lines, once drawn, just ache to be crossed.  I’m not excusing this conduct, I’m just saying it seems to be a pattern of human behavior, or human misbehavior anyway.

So when you build a massive defensive fortification on your country’s border–though it may be a project of mind-boggling innovation and preparation, though it may seem impenetrable–well, it just seems like pressing your luck to call it The Maginot Line.   You are just begging for trouble.

But, of course, no one had to go begging for trouble in Europe in the late 1930’s.  Trouble sat on your doorstep with a capital T.   And I’m sure all of France slept better at night knowing that  the Maginot Line held its eastern border safe when the Third Reich escalated its rumblings in Germany.  Slept…

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Hallo Welt!

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