mermaidcamp
Keeping current in wellness, in and out of the water
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#Writephoto The Hinges Of Hades
March 16, 2017
— 8 Comments
Hades
His death was sudden and unexpected, leaving matters in disarray at home, at his business, and with his students. The mystery school had been meeting in underground caves teaching secrets and rites of magical passage. Delphina became Fidel’s assistant, a priestess who inherited prophesy and ritual magic from her people, who came from an island with a volcano. When the volcano erupted few survivors managed to make it to safety. Delphina and her grandmother were saved by a passing ship. She was only 3 years old when she arrived in her new land, so she found it easy to adapt to the culture and language. Her grandmother suffered from nostalgia and yearned for a home Delphina did not remember.
Fidel lived next door and was her friend all through childhood. Her grandmother was cautiously approving of him, observing his exceptional nature. After her grandmother died Delphina moved in with Fidel’s family, and eventually married him. Their work together at the school replaced children and family in their lives. They dedicated themselves to higher truth and strict observance of their beliefs. She had grown up within the culture, and never questioned the motives or the fundamental beliefs of the elders. They always told her she was lucky to be alive, and she agreed. She did not question the essential mystery she had been taught. She believed that wealth was the most important and significant reward granted to the faithful. Her teachings reflected her willingness to do anything to acquire money. Fidel, whose very name meant faithful, was a son of Lucifer, trained in the art of stealing souls. He was raised in splendor and glorious excess to impress the rest of the populace. It never occurred to him that the rest of the inhabitants were there because they had been cursed. He never suspected their deep resentment of his position. He never even suspected who he was himself. His whole life was the ultimate betrayal.
While he was carrying out a ritual hypnotism in the inner sanctum of the cave, a group of hooded assassins stabbed him a thousand times with pitchforks. The shocking news reached Delphina as she descended into the chamber to deliver ritual wine. The large heavy gate at the top of the stairway slammed behind her, leaving her trapped with her husband’s murderers. This was the first inkling she had about her true location and her fate. She read the sign now facing her on the gate. “Hotter than the hinges of Hades”, was all it said.
#writephoto
This is a response to Sue Vincent’s photo prompt. Please visit to contribute your own story, read, or comment. There is a lively and interesting mix of writers who regularly contribute here. Enjoy!
William Mead, Ninth Great-Grandfather
March 14, 2017
— 2 Comments
Entrance to Old Sound Cemetery, also known as the Tomac Burying Grounds
“William Mead, born in England, about 1600, probably sailed from Lydd, County Kent, England, in the ship, Elizabeth, Captain Stagg, April 1635, for the Massachusetts Bay Colony; first settled in Wethersfield, Connecticut; removed to Stamford, Connecticut, in 1641, where he died about 1663. His wife died at Stamford, Sept. 19, 1657. Their children were: Joseph, Martha, and John. Joseph and John settled in the town of Greenwich. See “History & Genealogy of the Mead Family”, Spencer Mead.”
THE MEAD FAMILY
The Mead Family of Greenwich, Fairfield Co., Conn. was originally from England, and came to this country shortly after the Mayflower had landed its load of Pilgrims on the shores of Massachusetts. It has generally been the tradition in the family that two brothers came over; that one stopped at the Eastward, while the other came to Horse-Neck. That two brothers or possibly three, came over is very probable, as it would not be natural for one to come alone, could he find a relative to join him in his adventures. In the “History of Lexington, Mass.” we find that Gabriel Mead was one of the earliest settlers of that place, as also David. The dates of their arrival, and of William of Horse-Neck (or rather Stamford) agree with one another, leading to the conclusion that all three were near relatives; furthermore the Coat-of -arms of both branches is identical, which is almost proof positive. It is not fully detemined from what part of England the Connecticut family came; but searches that have been made there seem to show a starting place somewhere near London, possibly Greenwich, Co. Kent.
The first record of any Mead in Fairfield Co. is the following in Stamford Town Records: “Dec. 7, 1641, William Mayd received from the town of Stamford, a homelot and 5 acres of land.” This William was undoubtedly the ancestor of the Fairfield Co. Meads. His wife died Sept. 19, 1657. We have record of three children. Joseph, born in 1630, the ancestor of the Ridgefield and North Fairfield Co. Meads; Martha, who married John Richardson, of Stamford, and John, the ancestor of the Horse-Neck Meads. The two sons, Joseph 2 and John 2, seem to have migrated (though if proved only a temporary sojourn) to Hempstead, L. I.
John 2 removed from Hempstead, L. I. to Greenwich (Horse-neck) in 1660. It was in this village that he purchased land; the date of the deed is Oct. 26, 1660, and is as follows, verbatim et literation.
These presents witnesseth an agreement made between Richard Crab of Grenwich, on ye one side & John Mead of Hemstead on Long Island on ye other side, viz: ye sd Richard Crab hath sould unto ye sd John Mead all his houses & Lands yt sd Richard Crab hath in Grenwich with all ye Apurtenances. Rights & Privileges & Conveniences yt doth belong unto ye sd houses & lands or shall here after belong unto them namely ye house yt Rechard Crab liveth in. Ye house yt Thomas Studwell liveth in with ye Barne yt is on ye other side of ye hyewaye; also ye home lott ye house stands on being bounded with a fence about them Lying on ye North west side against ye home lott also Eightene Acres of Land in Elizabeth neck more or less being bounded on ye sea on ye East ans south east and a fence on ye west norwest & ye north. Also ye Rig (ridge?) with five acres of Meadow Lying in it more or les. Ye rig being bounded by ye Sea on ye south east. Williamses Land on the east & a fence on ye northwest. Ye hye waye & hubert (Hubbard?) & angell Husted land on ye west; also three acres of meadow in ye Long meadow & one acre of Meadow by ferris bounded by Jeffere Ferris land on ye southwest and ye Cove on ye west and northwest: ye hyewaye on ye East & northeast & five acres of meadow in myanos neck. All these above spesiffied I do acknoledge to have sould unto ye above sd John Mead. His heaires & asignes fully & freely to be posses forever & for ye just & full performance hereof I have hereunto subscribed my hand Ann 1660 October 26 Daye.
Richerd Crabb
Tomac Burying Grounds
William Mead (1600 – 1659)
9th great-grandfather
John Mead (1634 – 1699)
son of William Mead
Benjamin Daniel Mead (1667 – 1746)
son of John Mead
Mary Mead (1724 – 1787)
daughter of Benjamin Daniel Mead
Abner Mead (1749 – 1810)
son of Mary Mead
Martha Mead (1784 – 1860)
daughter of Abner Mead
Abner Morse (1808 – 1838)
son of Martha Mead
Daniel Rowland Morse (1838 – 1910)
son of Abner Morse
Jason A Morse (1862 – 1932)
son of Daniel Rowland Morse
Ernest Abner Morse (1890 – 1965)
son of Jason A Morse
Richard Arden Morse (1920 – 2004)
son of Ernest Abner Morse
Pamela Morse
I am the daughter of Richard Arden Morse
#WritePhoto Enchanted Spring
March 2, 2017
— 10 Comments
enchanted spring
Before we leave on the long pilgrimage to our forefathers’ homeland we gather vessels to fill with the water from the magical spring. Although it is heavy to carry on the slippery mountain trails we consider the water to be lucky. It is pure and clear, arising form deep within the earth, filtered through the sandy aquifer, arriving crystal clear and delicious. In the old days there was a superstition about drinking the water to be invited to return. When visitors arrived in the town that were undesirable to the townspeople they were all given beer to drink. The locals believed that once a person drank water from their enchanted spring, they would never leave. They had discovered this the hard way, and wanted to keep their precious resource to themselves. They became isolationists just when the rest of the world was hooking up with transportation, commerce, trade, and immigration. The elders wanted to maintain the purity of the water as well as the people’s thoughts.
These purity campaigns rarely result in a better environment. Somehow the strict rules, the isolation and control of learning, social recreation, and dress customs, had the effect for freezing time. The population survived, but only through sacrifice and very hard labor. They freely allowed anyone to leave, but continued to tell strangers there was no water in town, only beer. After a while the visitors stopped and the population dwindled. The few old true believers still living in the area were now too feeble to climb up to fetch the water from the spring for themselves, and nobody was left to do it for them. The enchantment was now completely wasted on them because it was just out of their reach. It was still flowing copiously as it had done for centuries, but only a handful of people even knew where the spring was.
When the last surviving elder was on his last legs a young girl wandered into town and asked for a drink of water. The old man broke down in tears while asking her who she was. She replied that she was a descendent of someone who had lived in the village in the previous century. She had heard stories about the miracle cures and the enchantment of the spring water that was legendary. She came because she was curious. She had fought through some dense forrest to arrive, traveling alone. She carried with her a copper cup with some inscribed symbols and a name. This cup had once belonged to her ancestor who left the village to live in the modern world. Now her curiosity about the cup brought her to this undiscovered part of her inheritance. The old man saw the cup hanging from her belt and asked to see it. He recognized the clan symbols inscribed on the side, but when he drew the copper close to his eyes he was able to see the name. He overflowed with emotion as he read the name of his own maternal great-grandmother on the cup. This was the last miracle the spring delivered to him. He perished in tears of grief and relief after he showed this youthful distant relative how to find the trail to the spring. When she returned with her vessels full of water, his body had turned to a pile of colored dust. She realized he had been sustaining his own life with leftover magic from the time when he could still climb to the spring to wait for her arrival. He had fulfilled his duty, and spent all of his extra lives. Now the responsibility was hers to share the enchantment of the spring. Her hike back out of the forrest was somber indeed.
This short fiction is written based on the fabulous photo prompt from Sue Vincent. Please join us to read, comment, or submit your own take on this picture.
#writephoto
#WritePhoto Water Under The Bridge
February 23, 2017
— 7 Comments
beneath-the-bridge
Jumping along on stepping-stones, making an effort to stay dry, we cross the stream and climb the hill on the other side. Our party had broken up early because a sudden thunder-storm toppled the picnic table and sent the folding chairs flying everywhere. Collecting our belongings and soggy food we ran for cover. We found shelter beneath a railroad bridge that had been abandoned, and was crumbling into ruins.
This was once the busy main line that connected the industrial cities with the farms in the rules countryside. Passengers and freight traveled regularly on this railroad for both commercial and recreational purposes. Many wealthy city folks owned large estates in the country that employed hundreds of servants and maintenance staff. They came out for the weekends to fox hunt and throw lavish house parties. As the aristocracy lost fame and fortune, only the royals could afford such extravagances. The big houses were abandoned one by one. There was no work for butlers or maids, and few servants had other skills to sustain them. Everyone moved away from the area in order to find work or live within their reduced means.
The muddy water rushed down from above, carrying debris and some loose toys and lawn furniture and skeleton remains that had been swept away in the torrential downpour. The waste that society creates floated by in the current. Our history, our ancestors’ skills and dreams, were washed away before our eyes. When the sun came out again our spirits were still dampened. We slowly emerged from our muddy perch to search for our companions. The happy picnic by the brook had become a somber reminder of sudden quirks of fate.
This story is an interpretation of this weeks photo prompt by Sue Vincent. Please visit to contribute or meet other writers here.
#writephoto
Robert the Bruce, 21st Great-Grandfather
February 21, 2017
— 15 Comments
birthplace, Turnberry Castle
his skull
Robert the Bruce
Robert the Bruce kills Henry Bohun
Battle of Stirling Bridge
King of the Scots
This is one of the ways I descend from the famous badass, Robert the Bruce:
Robert Bruce (1274 – 1329)
21st great-grandfather
Marjorie Bruce (1297 – 1316)
daughter of Robert Bruce
Robert II, King of Scotland, Stewart (1316 – 1390)
son of Marjorie Bruce
Robert Scotland Stewart (1337 – 1406)
son of Robert II, King of Scotland, Stewart
James I Scotland Stewart (1394 – 1434)
son of Robert Scotland Stewart
Joan Stewart (1428 – 1486)
daughter of James I Scotland Stewart
John Gordon (1450 – 1517)
son of Joan Stewart
Robert Lord Gordon (1475 – 1525)
son of John Gordon
Catherine Gordon (1497 – 1537)
daughter of Robert Lord Gordon
Lady Elizabeth Ashton (1524 – 1588)
daughter of Catherine Gordon
Capt Roger Dudley (1535 – 1585)
son of Lady Elizabeth Ashton
Gov Thomas Dudley (1576 – 1653)
son of Capt Roger Dudley
Anne Dudley (1612 – 1672)
daughter of Gov Thomas Dudley
John Bradstreet (1652 – 1718)
son of Anne Dudley
Mercy Bradstreet (1689 – 1725)
daughter of John Bradstreet
Caleb Hazen (1720 – 1777)
son of Mercy Bradstreet
Mercy Hazen (1747 – 1819)
daughter of Caleb Hazen
Martha Mead (1784 – 1860)
daughter of Mercy Hazen
Abner Morse (1808 – 1838)
son of Martha Mead
Daniel Rowland Morse (1838 – 1910)
son of Abner Morse
Jason A Morse (1862 – 1932)
son of Daniel Rowland Morse
Ernest Abner Morse (1890 – 1965)
son of Jason A Morse
Richard Arden Morse (1920 – 2004)
son of Ernest Abner Morse
Pamela Morse
I am the daughter of Richard Arden Morse
Robert The Bruce was born on 11 July 1274, probably in Turnberry Castle. He was descended from Scots, Gaelic and English nobility. His mother, Countess Marjorie of Carrick, was heir to a Gaelic earldom.
Robert’s grandfather, Robert Bruce ‘The Competitor’, was one of the claimants to the Scots throne. Bruce’s father, Robert de Brus of Annandale, fought in Wales for Edward I, was made governor of Carlisle Castle and fought on Edward’s side at the Battle of Dunbar in 1296. The Bruces refused to support John Balliol’s kingship and stayed close to Edward I. Balliol gave Bruce lands to the Comyns.
In 1298 Robert the Bruce became a guardian of Scotland alongside his great rival John ‘Red’ Comyn of Badenoch, and William Lamberton, Bishop of St Andrews. When Bruce and Comyn quarrelled Bruce resigned as guardian. In 1302 Bruce submitted to Edward I and returned ‘to the King’s peace’. Bruce married Elizabeth de Burgh.
Robert the Bruce’s father died in 1304. Bruce now had a viable claim to the throne. On 10 February 1306 Bruce met John Comyn of Badenoch at Greyfriars Kirk in Dumfries. A fight broke out, daggers were drawn and Bruce killed Red Comyn by the altar. The Pope excommunicated Bruce but Robert Wishart, Bishop of Glasgow, absolved him and made plans for Bruce to quickly take the throne. On 27 March 1306, Isobel of Fife, Countess of Buchan, crowned Bruce at Scone. His inauguration was small and hastily arranged but Robert Bruce was now King of Scots.
To Edward I the usurper King Robert was a rebel to be crushed. Edward’s reprisals were swift and brutal. Bruce was defeated at Methven. His wife, daughter and sisters were captured and imprisoned in England. Countess Isobel was locked in an iron cage at Berwick while Bruce’s brothers were hanged, drawn and beheaded. Bruce fled Edward’s wrath and spent a long winter hiding on the islands off the west coast and Ireland.
Bruce began a guerrilla war and struck at his enemies. His forces defeated Edward’s men at Glen Trool and Loudon Hill, then Edward I finally died in July 1307 – Bruce now faced Longshanks’ son, Edward II.
Bruce attacked his Scots enemies – destroying Comyn strongholds along the Great Glen and harrowing Buchan and the north east. His men cut a bloody swathe through Galloway and the south west.
One by one Scotland’s castles fell to Bruce and his supporters. Bruce had the castles ‘slighted’ – walls were torn down and defences were raised to the ground – the fortresses were made useless to an invading English army. As more castles fell more nobles pledged support to Bruce.
In 1314 Bruce watched Edward II’s army march toward Stirling Castle. Edward II had been given a year to relieve the besieged English force at Stirling or surrender the castle. Their forces met at the Battle of Bannockburn on 23 and 24 June 1314. Thousands died as the Scots defeated Edward’s army. The river was choked with the dead as Edward II fled the field and returned to England.
Bannockburn was not the end of Bruce’s struggle but it was a turning point. Captured English nobles were traded for his family and King Robert I gained international recognition. The Scots took the final English stronghold at Berwick in 1318 but Edward II still claimed overlordship of Scotland. Two years later the Scots sent a letter to the Pope – the Declaration of Arbroath – as part of an ongoing battle of words.
In 1327 Edward II was deposed by his Queen, Isabella. He was murdered in captivity. The English made peace with the Scots and renounced their claim of overlordship. The Black Rood, taken by Edward I, was returned to the Scots. It seemed that Bruce had finally won.
Robert the Bruce retired to Cardross near Dumbarton on the Firth of Clyde. He lived peacefully in a comfortable mansion house until his death on 7 June 1329. He asked that James Douglas take his heart on crusade. Bruce’s body was buried at Dunfermline Abbey, by his wife Elizabeth’s side, beneath an alabaster tomb. Bruce’s heart was finally buried at Melrose Abbey.
In the 1370s the Scots poet John Barbour wrote of Bruce, the hero-king, in ‘The Brus’.
Robert I, known as Robert the Bruce, was the king of the Scots who secured Scotland’s independence from England.
Here is another lineage:
Robert I “The Bruce” Bruce, King of Scotland (1274 – 1329)
21st great-grandfather
Margaret Bruce (1307 – 1346)
daughter of Robert I “The Bruce” Bruce, King of Scotland
John Glen (1349 – 1419)
son of Margaret Bruce
Isabel Glen (1380 – 1421)
daughter of John Glen
Isabel Ogilvie (1406 – 1484)
daughter of Isabel Glen
Elizabeth Kennedy (1434 – 1475)
daughter of Isabel Ogilvie
Isabella Vaus (1451 – 1510)
daughter of Elizabeth Kennedy
Marion Accarson (1478 – 1538)
daughter of Isabella Vaus
Catherine Gordon (1497 – 1537)
daughter of Marion Accarson
Lady Elizabeth Ashton (1524 – 1588)
daughter of Catherine Gordon
Capt Roger Dudley (1535 – 1585)
son of Lady Elizabeth Ashton
Gov Thomas Dudley (1576 – 1653)
son of Capt Roger Dudley
Anne Dudley (1612 – 1672)
daughter of Gov Thomas Dudley
John Bradstreet (1652 – 1718)
son of Anne Dudley
Mercy Bradstreet (1689 – 1725)
daughter of John Bradstreet
Caleb Hazen (1720 – 1777)
son of Mercy Bradstreet
Mercy Hazen (1747 – 1819)
daughter of Caleb Hazen
Martha Mead (1784 – 1860)
daughter of Mercy Hazen
Abner Morse (1808 – 1838)
son of Martha Mead
Daniel Rowland Morse (1838 – 1910)
son of Abner Morse
Jason A Morse (1862 – 1932)
son of Daniel Rowland Morse
Ernest Abner Morse (1890 – 1965)
son of Jason A Morse
Richard Arden Morse (1920 – 2004)
son of Ernest Abner Morse
Pamela Morse
I am the daughter of Richard Arden Morse
Both connect with Anne Dudley, my famous poet ancestor. One went through the Gordons for many generations, and the other went though the Kennedy family.
Robert’s grave
Robert was born on 11 July 1274 into an aristocratic Scottish family. Through his father he was distantly related to the Scottish royal family. His mother had Gaelic antecedents. Bruce’s grandfather was one of the claimants to the Scottish throne during a succession dispute in 1290 – 1292. The English king, Edward I, was asked to arbitrate and chose John Balliol to be king. Both Bruce and his father refused to back Balliol and supported Edward I’s invasion of Scotland in 1296 to force Balliol to abdicate. Edward then ruled Scotland as a province of England.
Bruce then supported William Wallace’s uprising against the English. After Wallace was defeated, Bruce’s lands were not confiscated and in 1298, Bruce became a guardian of Scotland, with John Comyn, Balliol’s nephew and Bruce’s greatest rival for the Scottish throne In 1306, Bruce quarrelled with Comyn and stabbed him in a church in Dumfries. He was outlawed by Edward and excommunicated by the pope. Bruce now proclaimed his right to the throne and on 27 March was crowned king at Scone. The following year, Bruce was deposed by Edward’s army and forced to flee. His wife and daughters were imprisoned and three of his brothers executed. Robert spent the winter on the island off the coast of Antrim (Northern Ireland).
Returning to Scotland, Robert waged a highly successful guerrilla war against the English. At the Battle of Bannockburn in June 1314, he defeated a much larger English army under Edward II, confirming the re-establishment of an independent Scottish monarchy. Two years later, his brother Edward Bruce was inaugurated as high king of Ireland but was killed in battle in 1318. Even after Bannockburn and the Scottish capture of Berwick in 1318, Edward II refused to give up his claim to the overlordship of Scotland. In 1320, the Scottish earls, barons and the ‘community of the realm’ sent a letter to Pope John XXII declaring that Robert was their rightful monarch. This was the ‘Declaration of Arbroath’ and it asserted the antiquity of the Scottish people and their monarchy.
Four years later, Robert received papal recognition as king of an independent Scotland. The Franco-Scottish alliance was renewed in the Treaty of Corbeil, by which the Scots were obliged to make war on England should hostilities break out between England and France. In 1327, the English deposed Edward II in favour of his son and peace was made with Scotland. This included a total renunciation of all English claims to superiority over Scotland. Robert died on 7 June 1329. He was buried at Dunfermline. He requested that his heart be taken to the Holy Land, but it only got as far as Spain. It was returned to Scotland and buried in Melrose Abbey.
Special Christianity
February 19, 2017
— 1 Comment
President Donald Trump embraces several political stances important to his conservative evangelical base. This includes support for “religious liberty” legislation and exempting evangelicals from laws upholding lesbian, gay, transgender and bisexual rights. However, Trump does not demonstrate any of the beliefs that have historically characterized evangelicalism. Unlike the majority of American evangelicals, he does not…
via This 19th Century Movement Could Explain Donald Trump’s Faith — TIME
#writephoto Pants And Vanities On Fire
February 9, 2017
— 9 Comments
bonfire of vanities
We watched them huddle around the fire to confer
About the plot they hatched to silence her
Laws and rule books were tossed in to burn
The flames grew large and the wind swirled
The bonfire of their vanities was burning in space
They were enveloped in a hellish backfire
There was no remedy for the sudden change
With pants all aflame they tried to conspire
We could neither believe them nor save them
They were consumed by their own vanities.
To participate by reading or writing a post about this picture go to Sue Vincent’s blog. She generously provides a new photo for inspiration each Thursday. Some very creative writers participate, and it is fun to see how the same picture inspires completely different responses in each writer.
#writephoto
Lawrence Washington, 11th Great-Grandfather
January 31, 2017
— 1 Comment
St Mary the Virgin with St John Churchyard
grave of Lawrence Washington
grave of Lawrence Washington
When Lawrence Washington and his twin brother Robert were born in 1568 in Sulgrave, Northamptonshire, England, their father, Robert, was 24, and their mother, Elizabeth, was 21. He married Lady Margaret Butler on August 3, 1588. Lady Margaret was heiress to a wool fortune. Her father helped Lawrence prosper in the wool trade and become a prominent citizen. He was mayor of Northhampton from 1532-1545, and acquired a manor house known as Sulgrave. Lawrence and Margaret has 17 children, 8 sons and 9 daughters. They married well and created an illustrious lineage, that includes George Washington, the first US president….and me. Lawrence died on December 13, 1616, at the age of 48. He is buried at St Mary the Virgin with St John Churchyard, Great Brington, Daventry District, Northamptonshire, England His plot: Grave is below a stone slab in the chancel of the church.
Lawrence Washington (1568 – 1616)
11th great-grandfather
Richard Washington (1592 – 1642)
son of Lawrence Washington
John Washington (1632 – 1677)
son of Richard Washington
Richard Washington (1660 – 1725)
son of John Washington
Elizabeth Washington (1689 – 1773)
daughter of Richard Washington
Elizabeth Lanier (1719 – 1795)
daughter of Elizabeth Washington
Martha Burch (1743 – 1803)
daughter of Elizabeth Lanier
David Darden (1770 – 1820)
son of Martha Burch
Minerva Truly Darden (1806 – 1837)
daughter of David Darden
Sarah E Hughes (1829 – 1911)
daughter of Minerva Truly Darden
Lucinda Jane Armer (1847 – 1939)
daughter of Sarah E Hughes
George Harvey Taylor (1884 – 1941)
son of Lucinda Jane Armer
Ruby Lee Taylor (1922 – 2008)
daughter of George Harvey Taylor
Pamela Morse
I am the daughter of Ruby Lee Taylor
Sulgrave Manor
#WeekendCoffeeShare Fire Rooster Edition
January 29, 2017
— 5 Comments
Smokey Takes A Stand
Welcome to my home on this cold sunny morning in Arizona. Make yourself at home while I put the kettle on. I can serve you coffee, an assortment of teas, and a wonderful combination of grapefruit,orange,and tangerine juice that I am drinking. Citrus season is in full swing here, so we are enjoying our harvest as well as some of our friends’ fruit. I have found a recipe for red grapefruit salsa that sounds really tasty, so I plan to whip that up later today. Please take some citrus back home with you when you go, since we have a super abundance to share with you. Relax and tell me about your life and writing. Did your week turn out as planned?
The year of the Rooster is here to signal a new beginning. Fire rooster is feisty and proud by nature. We have all witnessed the political season and the wild start of the new administration and knew we had crossed some kind of Rubicon. Things have changed radically and quickly in ways nobody really anticipated when the election began. As Hill correctly observed we are more divided that we thought. Although the war with the intelligence agencies was unprecedented, it is nothing in comparison with the National Park Service movement to publish scientific facts. The forms of protest are reinvented and refined daily. The year of the cock is all about reinventing everything. We are seeing that happen, whether we like it or not. Change is here. I did support the women who marched, but I feel very passionate about supporting the scientific community freaking out on behalf of science. I am afraid of dark ages without facts. We can’t afford to wipe out any more knowledge for political expediency. I feel like we all just jumped off a very steep cliff without our flying suits. We need science more than ever.
I wrote another photo prompt piece this week. I went with a free verse. The picture was intriguing, as they always are. That is the point of using the prompt. Maybe this week I will write two pieces of fiction. It is a freeing experience to be able to just make up anything you want from your imagination. My muse will eventually get warmed up to this new way of expressing myself. In the meantime I am retweeting all the @altNationalPark accounts, and joining the army of comedy on twitter.
Baddass Park Employees
War with the Park Service
Thanks for stopping by today to share coffee and some angst. I wish you all a happy and prosperous year of the rooster. May the cock be with us. Join this coffee sharing party each weekend hosted by Diana. Please visit to read, comment, or share your own post with this diverse group of talented writers. Add your two cents here.
New Moon, Year Of The Rooster 2017
January 27, 2017
— 3 Comments
Rooster paper cut
Year of the Fire Cock 2017
The lunar year of the fire rooster begins today. In many parts of the world this is the most significant and superstitious time of the year. The lunar calendar was widely used around the world before Pope Gregory of the Roman Catholic Church had his way with time keeping, creating the solar Gregorian calendar in 1582. It has become the most widely used, but plenty of people are still on the lunar system. Jewish calendars and Asian calendars are lunar, as they have been forever. Countries varied greatly in adopting the system:
Adoption of Gregorian Calendar
1582: Spain, Portugal, France, Italy,
Catholic Low Countries, Luxemburg, and colonies
1610: Prussia 1700: ‘Germany’, Swiss Cantons, Protestant Low Countries, Norway, Denmark 1873: Japan 1912: China, Albania
1584: Kingdom of Bohemia 1648: Alsace 1752: Great Britain and colonies 1875: Egypt 1915: Latvia, Lithuania
1682: Strasbourg 1753: Sweden and Finland 1896: Korea 1916: Bulgaria
1918: USSR, Estonia
1919: Romania, Yugoslavia
1923: Greece
1926: Turkey
Greek and other Eastern orthodox churches celebrate Easter on the lunar calendar, which explains why it does not match the Roman Catholic date. When you look up your Chinese year on the placemat at the restaurant you may be in error because our western new year is never the same as the one in Asia. Ours is January 1 every year. Theirs falls between the end of January and the middle of February. The significance of the animal of the year is considered to be a big deal to those who celebrate this holiday. A change is expected in luck and finances, and much attention is given to enhancing both at this time. Gifts of currency with symbols and pictures of the animal are given to increase good fortune. Adjustments are made to the feng shui to make the most of the new energy that will flow. You may not personally believe that astrology or calendars have any significance, but a very large part of the world’s population does believe it. It can’t hurt to learn a little bit about it. This is a time to reinvent whatever needs to be changed.
The year of the cock is not expected to be the lucky year for those born under the sign of the rooster themselves. Their trademark weaknesses, boastfulness and vanity, will get them into more trouble than usual this year. Their active, talkative nature will cause problems. They will be challenged to put up or shut up, which is hard for them to handle. Everyone turning 60 this year is a fire rooster. They include famous fire Roosters Dawn French, Donny Osmond, Martin Luther King III, Stephen Fry, Hans Zimmer, Dolph Lundgren, and Jools Holland. This year the new moon in Aquarius begins the reign of the rooster over good luck and chance. I wish all my gentle readers a healthy, prosperous, and happy year. I appreciate your presence here.
mermaidcamp 