Delta Dawn – Did We Hear You Say?

Now you see her…Now you don’t. Fr: Morguefile

In the continuing saga of Now you see her…Now you don’t… no worries…. we, the Children of the Forest, are still on the trail of our fearless, mysterious Delta Dawn.

Being sound of body and mind, (well, almost), the  Children of the Forest soon understood Father’s methods of Record Keeping of the Journal of Maps….It seemed every 7 years or so he updated the properties, their owners and had been doing so for the last 21 years or so…before that my Grandfather had kept the Journal, previous to that my Great Grandfather and so on and so on.

Delta Dawn’s Ramshackle Homestead, Fr: Morguefile

And so we flipped back through the pages, seeing VACANT noted on the Ramshackle Property, map after map…until some 40-50 years ago and then like a light in the wilderness it read: Property of Tom McEarnuff.   Who??? No such family lived among us now….no students at our school had that last name…we had plenty of Mc’s living in the area, but no Earnuffs…It also listed his wife’s name and their 4 children as well as listed their livestock – 2 horses, 4 cows, some sheep, chickens and a pigHow bizarre, how bizarre.

Another roundtable was necessary for the Children of the Forest to take a vote, have a consensus…maybe it was time to ask Father for further information if we really wanted to see Delta Dawn again. Now everyone knew Father’s ability to spin a tale for at least 7 counties but if  they made him understand the gravity of the outcome, maybe Truth and Reconciliation would follow.

The forest trees and alley…

With some skepticism and fingers crossed, the Children of the Forest, marched from their  Club House, and filed in the living room where Father was busy reading a National Geographic.  Mother was knitting more mittens because winter always was coming, often ahead of schedule.

The designated speaker of the Children of the Forest said, ‘Father, no more tall tales, no more half truths, we are here for the Truth so we can have Reconciliation.  Who are the McEarnuffs and where did they go? In our hearts, we know Delta Dawn was a McEarnuff and we hear her calling us to help her get home.  Please Father.’

Father looked at Mother, Mother looked at Father…silence followed with only the ticking of the Grandfather clock in the corner, rooting them to the past and the here and now.

With a sigh, Father said. ‘It is complicated.  I must speak to all the parents of the Children of the Forest before I share the truth, as we know it.  It is not only my story to tell. If all the parents are in agreement we will move forward. Just be patient a while longer.’

Star Dust fr: Morguefile

Had we uncovered a ‘Secret Never To Be Told’ or was Father yanking our chain, giving himself time to spin an epic fabrication…the man could write movies with his untethered, wondering mindwas it because he read all those National Geographic, ya think?

Delta DawnDid we hear ya say…you were meeting him here today????

Well, long as your stars align…..

Delta Dawn, Wherever Have You Gone?

Where the Children of the Forest hid behind trees to spy on Delta Dawn.

And then one day, on the 2nd Summer of her arrival, Delta Dawn was Gone.Baby.Gone.  The Children of the Forest diligently stalked the ramshackle old house, the alley she used to float down, for days, until we reached the unsavoury consensus, she had left, like she had come, disappearing like a soap bubble in to an unknown destination….And so, it was time to ask our inscrutable, sworn to secrecy, Mother and Father  just where was our Fallen Angel, Delta Dawn ?

It seems like Adults love Secrets, even more than their own kin because, total Poker Faced, one parent lying, the other swearing to it, Father said he heard (think Peter Rabbit???), Delta Dawn had been assigned another location where there were even more corrupt folks than ourselves, who had Lessons to Learn in order to find The Way, The Truth and The Light….we didn’t (really) believe him. 

In tandem, we rolled our eyes, filed outside and headed to what was once called our Play House…renamed our Little House and newly Christened our Club House (so much more mature, we thought) to brainstorm possibilities, run them up a flag pole, Plan-Do-Check-Act.

Eyes to roll

We Baby Boomers weren’t tethered to Social Media for entertainment… ‘in the day’…. we met face-to-face, we invented games, competitions and actually read books like Nancy Drew’s The Mystery of the Missing Candlesticks and the Hardy Boys, The Haunting at Echo Lake.  We considered ourselves to be First Class Detectives and Sleuths so…

So someone suggested we borrow our Auntie’s Ouija Board and ask it where Delta Dawn was hanging out, but after discussing it at length, we decided that that the Board gave such vague responses, which could be translated so many ways, so let’s shelf that idea for now. (Note: Not Reject… Maybe revisit in future if all else failed.)

Next someone brought forth the idea that maybe Auntie Spinster (christened Auntie out of respect, not related by blood) could read our Tea Leaves.  She did a great job of telling us we would all go far, get married, have children, live happily ever after. The only problem…she was a Never-to-Be-Trusted-Adult and if any of us let it slip that our intentions were to find Delta Dawn, she may tell our parents who would nip the idea (and us) in the bud.  We might endure House Arrest for the rest of the Summer….Probably best not to pursue this Chain of Action if your Freedom was at stake.

But there is always an answer, as long as there is a question… in’it? Our family had the original deeds of all the surrounding properties passed down through the generations….we’d see if that would lend a clue or two.

It was, as you can imagine, a huge convoluted Journal of Maps and names  listing of every family.  Surely it would show the ramshackle old house, its listed owner and his progeny…..maybe the very missing clue to find our Fallen Angel, Delta Dawn.

Father kept the Journal, with its strange hieroglyphics, at the bottom of an old trunk, up in the attic, away from little snooping eyes because it listed every birth, even those who were stillborn or born ‘on the wrong side of the blanket’ as the Old Folks would say….and it wasn’t any of our business to know the details, according to our Mother and Father.  

We are strong…we are invincible…we are children…in the day.

Even families in the Children of the Forest held such pink and blue surprises and somehow we would have to bypass that information as to not bring them embarrassment….everyone knew…but ssshhh…it’s still a Secret….And ya never knew when you’d need them to help build a barn, birth a child or help out at the Church Bazaar…so, as mentioned in other revelations, Country Folk play the Long Game…Never Forget…. yet Never Reveal…

So…Hang on Delta Dawn….We’re gonna rescue you….Hang on Delta Dawn….We’re gonna rescue you….

Delta Dawn, What’s That Flower You Have On?

In the country…deep in the country, you know everyone…..their names and the nicknames assigned to them…

Everyone knew Runaway Daisy & Runaway Fawn.
From Morguefile.com
DSCF9355.JPGBy milza
abc03.jpgBy inkogutto

Nessie and Nestor stayed in their own lane…no jumping fences to escape.

Hey, you even know the names of their dogs, cats, horses, cows, piggies, their picky hens and noisy roosters ….so when some stranger appears, he or she is quickly scrutinized, categorized and assigned an identifying tagline based on appearance, attitude and what we perceive as aptitudelike a trucker’s handle, with more thought put in to it…. (What else do we have to do?).

So World, meet Delta Dawn…. One night, just after sunset, she just was there, walking down the middle of the unpaved road…..

Flower for Delta Dawn’s hair….

a flower in her hair, carrying what seemed to be a baby in a knitted shawl, she floated past us, her feet barely contacting the ground. She was tall with long blonde hair flowing past her waist, the face of an angel, so ethereal, so other worldly, so named Delta Dawn.

Where did she come from? Where was she going?

We the Good Children of the Forest, hid behind the bushes and spied on her, noting her apparel, her habits and her rigid routine…it seemed she had taken up residence in that unpainted ramshackle old house with the broken windows, sagging porch and gate with the missing slats.

The Walk Time, set in stone. Fr: Morguefile

Every night after sunset, she would push open the creaky front door, near off its hinges, walk carefully down the path to the alley, dressed in ankle length pastel dress of pink or blue or mint green or light lemon or a splashy floral of pastels, a fresh flower in her hair, flat sandals, cradling what we believed to be her baby, (after heated discussion and differences of opinion).  It was like a uniform, of sorts…always the same, always changing…in the winter she wore a long black coat, black lace up boots and a black hat, held in place by a thick net black scarf….with her long blonde hair still flowing down her back.

Back in the day, there were no libraries so we ran home and sought answers from the smartest people in our world, our parents – it was summer, so it was not like we could ask our teachers – anyway, seemed our parents were much smarter than those who had been hired to actually educate us…..Mother said, well, no one seemed to know much about her, not even Peg-Legged Jack or Mad-As-A-Hatter Maddie, or the Spinster Twins, Ina and Ivy, not even born the same day but we couldn’t tell them apart – ask your Father, Mother said (maybe sardonically)…He knows everything. 

Now Father was our Last Resource because he had a way of spinning fact and fiction, so although it might be a mighty good story, it could never be proven scientificallyNot letting truth get in our way, we asked Father….and he had an answer (When did he not have an answer?) which brought more questions to our already hyperactive minds.

An Angel that still has her wings…..

Delta Dawn, it seemed was a Fallen Angel, injected into our otherwise mundane life to teach us the lesson of what will happen to us if we didn’t walk the Straight and Narrow…Hadn’t we noticed on the back of her shoulders, down to her rib cage on each side, a small bony protrusion where her wings were once attached….Because of some grievous sin Delta Dawn committed, her wings fell off and she dropped to the Earth, landing where she was most needed….to show us the Way, the Truth and the Light.

We begged for more answers….what had Delta Dawn done that she would be so punished….what had we done that Delta Dawn was sent to live among us…so many questions…but Father took the Fifth Amendment….One day, when the time is right, all will be revealed, he said…Mother reminded us how she had said your Father knows everything, as they exchanged, I swear, it was a smirk…

No wings for the Wicked….

I promise, I am working on it…and as soon as I know, you will know because a riddle without an answer is like a pig without a poke….So…

Delta Dawn, what’s that flower you have on?…Could it be a faded rose from days gone by? ….And did I hear you say he was a-meeting you here today? … To take you to his mansion in the sky?

Hello From the Outside

Momma says she’d really, truly love to believe in ghosts but so far…no confirmed sitings in the light of the day….

Hooded ghosts.
From Morguefile.com
IMG_0796_xe.JPGBy ardelfin

Surely her parents could have dropped in by now…It has been thirty-three years since Her-Mother-God-Rest-Her-Soul departed, in a great hurry, with no goodbyes….and Momma a mere child at the time….that might be an exaggeration but still, younger than Wonder Boy is right now.  And you know, mothers, they have your back….Momma longed to see, or even to talk to her mother one more time but there are zero phone lines or cell towers in Heaven.

Now Her-Father-God-Rest-His-Soul hung around another nine years and announced to everyone that he was off to Heaven that day…but no one believed him….. He saw things, felt thing,s that were not scientifically proven and accepted, you know….

The circle, deep in the forest where Momma’s father claimed that the fairies twirled at the stroke of Midnight on a Moonlit night.

like the Circle of the Fairy Dance…so it was best to take things he said with a grain of salt. Momma and her father were birds of a feather, could almost read each others minds.  Even though in his later years his mind was some what like Swiss cheese, with big gaping holes, from multiple strokes, his passing left a relentless wound in Momma’s heart.

And RIP Daddy…still a No Show…Well, Momma likes to think he is those butterflies that dive bomb her when she is out working in the garden…she hears him calling in the tinkle of the wind chimes…

Momma says RIP Daddy is now a butterfly that graces our garden.

but really RIP Daddy didn’t have any of that Celtic blood that runs through Momma’s veins making her believe in things both seen and unseen, like Fairies, Angels, Wee Folk and Trees that whisper and shout. However Momma is still a staunch supporter of Science…in her mind the two can co-exist in harmony.

Then there was Momma’s Itty Bitty Sister….She and Momma were so close, just peas in a pod…Itty Bitty believed like Momma,  in the wacky and the wild, all the Folklore you could stuff in to her head, and like her family before, the Sweet Baby Jesus…

Momma and her Itty Bitty Baby Sister -last pic together.

and you guessed it…nary a siting of her.  No, don’t get me wrong…she drops by in dreams, they all do, but Itty Bitty is like a Frequent Flyer or a Preferred Customer…with  Privileges, coming night after night, in different scenarios…but it is not the same….Momma misses seeing her everyday, rushing to her bedside, kicking off her shoes, hopping on the bed with her….exchanging tall and small tales such as the old, toothless guy that sat at her table in the cafeteria who tried to kiss her, the latest drama someone from the family was living through that sometimes amazed us, often amused us, commiserating about poor Little Itty Bitty’s endless struggles to breath, walk, holding her hand, when the pain drilled through her valiant soul.

Momma loves the dreams wherein the RIP Souls pop by,  but if she was awake when they dropped by…It makes for a much more believable story – especially if she could use her iphone to record their return on a video…. Stored forever in iCloud, ….that is, if the dearly departed haven’t signed some Confidentiality Agreements forbidding the practise. I hear they have some tight Guidelines and litigious lawyers, in Heaven.

Highway to Heaven.

So…where are the ghosts of those who went on before us? You’d think (or Momma would like to think), they have gained wisdom and would be willing to share it with their loved ones, left here, with little guidance, beset with obstacle courses and sink holes that swallow homes, cars and OMG, sometimes even people, into their dark, dank dungeons of slime.

We’ll never know…maybe not even when we enter the Pearly Gates (such things are probably only on A-Need-To-Know-Basis).  So until then (and Pinkie Promise, if any one of my Dearly Departed drop by, I’ll let you know…pronto):

Hello from the other side…I must have called a thousand times…
Hello from the outside….At least I can say that I’ve tried….
To contact you, cause its breaking my heart……
But it don’t matter, nothing can tear us apart, anymore….Hello.(Paraphrase Adele)

Night Falls

The Road to some where, or no where…Fr: Morgue files.

The uneasiness of not knowing the road…On which we travel…Wraps around us like a long, black cloak…

Looking in my eyes

Looking in my eyes, you see fear…Of the Unknown…Haunting our present, overshadowing our future…

Night Time Is The Right Time.
From Morguefile.com
IMG_0522.jpgBy wallenberg

Awakened in the night, by creaking floorboards…I ponder the odds…And face a grim reality of failure…

But when the morning sun bathes…The world in splendor…All troubles are on hold, till night falls again…

I Never Really Change

No ♥ kid!
What you see is what you get….

I never really change… I just keep pressing on… Flirting with you today… Till someone better comes along… I really mean no harm… I’m not a break Kid… But I can’t seem to settle down… So I shop around instead….

 

 

Sailboat on the run... From: Morgurefile By: Kconners
Sailboat on the run… From: Morguefile
By: Kconners

I’m not a tree to root… I’m a sailboat on the run…With a change of the wind I’m off again… Till every race I’ve won… So you won’t tie me to tomorrow… I may or may not be here… It’s a pleasure to have known you…You’re forewarned – so beware…

 

 

Going up is worth the descending...From: Morguefile By: MaryRN
What goes up… Must come down…From: Morguefile By: MaryRN

For every ounce of me lives…My energy’s never ending… Get too close and  you will be sucked in… But the flight’s well worth the descending….

God’s Plans, God’s Plans

You know, Momma is something of a Collector…No, she wasn’t born that way but somewhere along the Path of Life she developed some hard to kick addiction of collecting.

When Momma was a young adult, she said her Motto was more ‘When-in-Doubt-Throw-It-Out’…now it is more like, ‘When-in-Doubt, Keep-It,-Keep-It, Never-Know-When-You-May-Need-It’…much to Wonder Boy’s chagrin.

Bye Bye Earthly Possesions
Bye Bye Earthly possessions

Momma swears the very day she dies, Wonder Boy will be on the phone renting a 20 yard bin dumpster and just throw all of poor Momma’s addictions in…because, well he is not the sentimental type and what do you want him to do with it….haul it around till his death so his kids have to dispose of it?  Fair question…No answer.

As a child, Momma had one addiction…dolls….she could get them for her birthdays, or wait till Santie Claus left them under the Christmas Tree.  She even loved the second-hand pass them down dolls that came her way.  As she spent long hours, playing with her dolls, she day dreamed of meeting the Perfect Handsome Man (of course), getting married (they did that in ‘The Day’ 🙂) and having sweet little beautiful, smart babies.

Some of Momma's dollies...
Some of Momma’s dollies…

However, Momma is a Virgo so she had to have a plan…not just one baby because then she might spoil him or her ….and that is just an abomination to bring a self-serving narcissist in to the world….although, no matter how you slice, with Grandmama as her mother, it wasn’t in her blood to spoil a child.

Life doesn’t always hand you what you planned for….a Man, Check, a Marriage Check, a Baby, No Check. Instead Momma received the Curse of Infertility.  Lots of treatment, many tears, many years, no babies….but in a flash, changes can occur….but not the way Momma planned….no, it was the Gods Plan that was rolled out.

That, Virginia is how, Momma and Daddy, ended up with a 15-year-old daughter (sorta-kinda), the Run Away Princess, one cold, grey, October day.  She had run away from home and would not return to her parents but she would live with her Aunt and Uncle… RIP Daddy and Momma because….they were cool (lol says Wonder Boy). Don’t get me wrong…the Run Away Princess  adored her father….but her mother was… well, hardcore and since the Run Away Princess was a Leo born in the Year of the Fire Horse well East met West and my way or the highway and the highway it was.

Momma and the SuperKid many moons ago...
Momma and the Super Kid many moons ago…

And so it was a great surprise, when after so many years of trying in vain, Wonder Boy, at his own time, on his own schedule, meandered in across the finish line, causing much disbelief and joy… like the same day the Run Away Princess arrived, bag and lots of baggage, on Momma and RIP Daddy’s doorstep…like go figure. Timing is everything…..

No matter how hard, they kicked the can, Momma and Daddy had a two child family – that third child seemed to allude them…but who knew…he was on his way…they knew him from the time of conception, nurtured him, treasured him, supported him emotionally, physically and spiritually over the coming years….because he was Itty Bitty’s (Momma’s sister) only child  and at the age of 24, with the passing of his mother, he became Momma’s third child….to have and to hold, from this day forthour Super Kid. RIP Daddy and Itty Bitty are waving with glad tidings, from Heaven. They got our backs, our sides, our tops, our bottoms....we just gotta have faith!

All we can say is Gods Plan, Gods Plan (Drake). Thank you, God.

Glory Days….They’ll Pass You By

Poor Mother Hubbard…no kids in her cupboard…well, if she moved things around there maybe one son hiding out behind the pickle jar… but he was a Geek…before the term was even coined.  Science turned him on…no concussions for him from the Good Ole Hockey Game….What do you do with a kid like that if you’re a Hockey Mom in Canada, eh?

So the LA Kings got The Great One....but no Stanley Cups while he played with them... :(
So the LA Kings got The Great One….but no Stanley Cups while he played with them… 🙁

It read like a Greek Tragedy, the Townies said….but it didn’t start out that way…the roll out was glorious for the family, for the Town and even for the Future Montreal Canadians…but Stuff happens … for no reason, in no particular order, World Without End. Amen.

Mother and Father Hubbard came sailing in to town, with their three sons willing to share their fame and fortune, Son #1 and Son #2…because when you have talent, the rumours arrive even before the finished product…..not so much Son #3, who was busy with his microscopes in his bedroom (it was the 60’s folks).

Son #1 was headed straight for the Big League. He flew down the ice, he shoots , he scores …..  so like The Rocket Richard or Guy Lefleur.

Those pesky Pea Soupers we ♥ so dearly, beat LA Kings to the Stanley Cup in 1993...So sorry Wayne....
Those pesky Pea Soupers we ♥ so dearly, beat LA Kings to the Stanley Cup in 1993…So sorry Wayne….

The Habs parachuted an agent in to snap him up, sign on the dotted line and sent him to a summer school on the Farm Team to ready him for a future brilliant career. The Franglais (French/English) Townies were  delighted that their school and town won every tournament but still there was a…shall we say envy that was pervasive.  Why him?  Why not my son?

After an intense training Summer School Program, packed with future Glory Day stories, Son #1 returned to continue his high school and tried to fit in off the rink. He joined the Baseball League, the Football Team, the Track Team…and you guessed it…aced it all.  Even his team mates started to wish that he would just stay home already. Enough is a enough….so one night, under the lights at the baseball diamond, a scuffle broke out…no, not the other team….members of his own club were pushing him around, giving him the gears…so Son #1 took his bat and left, walking down lonely street to home…maybe he was  walking along, preoccupied, maybe the hit and run driver of the car was drunk…whatever the circumstances, our Little Town lost our only chance to send ‘Our Boy to the Big League’ as metal met flesh that long and lonesome night.  Son  #1 had joined ‘The Big League’, In the Sky, Lord, In the Sky.

Notwithstanding, Mother and Father Hubbarwere heartbroken.  Son #2 would not have to endure small-minded, small town politics to play hockey.  A city team in the province next door welcomed him with open arms…even though he’d never be as outstanding as Son#1…still…he was good….and he loved the game.

Now fate is so random…who knew…in those days when players did not have to wear helmets, that a Puck had his name on it….but it did….Right in the middle of a tense game, a puck travelling over  100 miles an hour made contact with Son #2’s temple and it was literally…Game Over and Out ….Forever.  Son #2 was In the SkyLordIn the Skywith Son #1, hockey stick still clutched in his hands.

It was said that Mother Hubbard set plates for Son #1 and #2, on the table at every meal until the day she died…we can’t confirm that because after the death of Son #2, Mother and Father Hubbar packed up their belongings and moved to another province…where no one knew their sad tale, it was said…but we all know that would be a pipe dream…there are some secrets you can’t keep wraps on…just ask Donald Trump…

Son #3 – Where are you?  Did you thrive as an only child, dragged into the limelight by the absence of your older brothers?

Son#2 – You were so much easier to digest….more imperfect …like the rest of us…we miss you.

Son #1All apologies and should’ve, could’ve, would’ve’s….You know, we were so proud of you…and your team-mate who started the kerfuffle felt so badly….you were OUR Superstar on skates ….While the Instigator, was OUR Superstar  with the opposite sex….so you both had some things to work out….

Our Great One In His Youth
Our Great One In His Youth – He made it to The Big League!!!

But….

Are you going away with no word of farewell.Will there be not a trace left behind…Well, we should’ve been less jealous Didn’t mean to be unkind…..
You know that was the last thing on our minds….. (Paraphrase Tom Paxton)

We wonder…we wonder…..

Seeking the Lost

Long, Long Ago…. (well, not that Long Ago, actually) Ms. Been-There-Done-That lived across the street from us in a ramshackle home (what does that even  mean, Momma?) that had seen better days, with its peeling paint and fractured windows.

Ramshackle House
Ramshackle House

Momma says it looks like if you push on the outer wall with your pointer finger, it will collapse, flattening everything in its path….so sidle on past it…. with Extreme Caution.

 

 

Our Summer Garden
Our Summer Garden

We never really talked to Ms. Been-There-Done-That but we’d wave and holler across the street.  She was pea green with envy over Momma’s Magical Garden with flowers, stepping-stones, rocks that bled rivers of silver and our Itty Bitty Fairies and Angels that twirled around in the Circle of the Fairy Dance.

 

Little did we know that Ms. Been-There-Done-That was fighting her last battle with Killer Cancer and had chosen to  self medicate with Jack Daniels….bottles and bottles of Jack Daniels.  She had lost her  Husband to The-Other-Women, she had lost her Son to Addiction, BUT…..

UNCONDITIONAL, HANG IN THERE LOVE. I AM WITH YOU , TIL DEATH DO US PART.
Unconditional, Hang in there ‘Till Death Do Us Part’.

 

She would lose her Life with her Ever Loyal and Faithful Splotchy White and Black Mutt Dog at her side.

Some say on the night of her passing Ms. Been-There-Done-That crossed the street and became the Lead Ballerina in the Circle of the Fairy Dance….but others swear on a Stack of King James Bibles:

A Summer Moon
A Summer Moon

As the moon glows down on her haunted house, now that she feels better, Ms. Been-There-Done-That roams our street at night, crisscrossing the road, searching, calling out for Ever Loyal and Faithful Splotchy White and Black Mutt Dog, saying, ‘Here Boy, Here Boy’ in a quiet whisper, then sprinting up to the neighbours’ front doors, ringing door bells, and when they answer, vaporizing before their unbelieving eyes…

Hooded ghosts. From Morguefile.com IMG_0796_xe.JPGBy ardelfin
Hooded ghosts.
From Morguefile.com
IMG_0796_xe.JPG  By ardelfin

Seeking the lost… Seeking the lost…Saving, redeeming… At an immeasurable cost.

Look for her….If you have eyes to seeListen for her…If you have ears to hear….because….She is so out there!!!!!!!!!!