A Local Haunting

Today is Halloween, the day when we gorge on ill-gotten sweets try to fake out evil spirits before All Saints Day. I shall be super busy altering Eldest’s costume today, but I thought it would be fun to regale you with one of our famous ghosts.

Her name was Sally White, and she was a chambermaid at the famous Menger Hotel. The Menger is the oldest continuously operating hotel west of the Mississippi. Opened in 1859, it was built on the site of the Menger Brewery, for the frequent visitors who otherwise couldn’t travel back to their homes. It has hosted presidents, generals, and celebrities. Sally White worked there during the 1870’s. Legend goes that one night she and her husband had an argument, and Sally decided to stay at the hotel overnight, instead of returning to her home. Her husband, in a fit of rage, threatened to kill her the following day, and later went on to attack her in the hotel. She suffered for two days before dying of her injuries. Mr. Menger paid for her doctor and her funeral, and in her debt for that kindness, Sally White roams the halls of the Victorian Wing, wearing a gray skirt, and carrying a load of towels for the guests.

The Menger Hotel is still a big attraction for the famous and not-so-famous alike. It is also part of the local ghost tour, which includes The Alamo. If y’all ever come to San Antonio, it is worth checking out, not only for the beauty of the hotel, but the rich history.

And on that note, have a great Halloween!! 😀

Everything Old is New Again

Yesterday, I spent my day at Aquarena Springs. For once the weather co-operated and behaved itself as we toured the Texas State University ecological facility.

For those who aren’t familiar with it, Aquarena Springs is the site of Texas’ first amusement park. It is probably the most important archaeological, anthropological and ecological site in the state of Texas. Evidence of human settling has been found dating back thousands of years. In the 19th century, people came from all over the world to enjoy the springs for its therapeutic properties. Becoming popular in the early 20th century, the owner opened a hotel at the springs in 1928, which hosted many famous people, including Jay Gould, and most famously, Johnny Weismuller.

The Aquarena Hotel

It even hosted Robert E. Lee at the resort while he was stationed at Fort Mason. The hotel is now the Texas Rivers Center.

Remembering

My family says I have the best memory. I remember the most obscure, most trivial things. Like the time my sister tricked me into eating mudpies because they were full of minerals and iron. To this day she doesn’t remember that. But my tummy and I sure do.

Tomorrow marks the tenth anniversary of 9/11. I know most people remember what they were doing on that calm Tuesday morning. I remember what I wore (denim shorts and a yellow T-shirt, my hair up in a clip), what I fixed for breakfast (scrambled eggs and toast, and oatmeal for Little One and Hubby), the pot Little One was using for a drum (Calphalon anodized 1 qt.), getting Eldest ready for her second week of first grade, putting her hair in braids and packing her lunch (ham sandwich, carrots, fruit cup, and a juice box), watching Son build his daily Lego masterpiece (Duplo tower). And I remember Hubby calling me from Ft. Bragg to tell me to put the TV on the news.

I remember sitting there, watching the smoldering coming from the World Trade Center, saddened by the thought that some poor guy underestimated his little plane and thinking there would be casualties from this accident. But then the smoke and fire was just too much, and it just didn’t look right. I remember calling my dad at his office in El Paso, and telling him what was going on, and as I watched, I saw a huge airliner hit the other tower, and sadness turned to horror, my voice reflecting it as I relayed the happenings to my dad. My dad, the calmest person I know, instructed me to hang up the phone, and to call Hubby immediately. I was crying, trying to keep it together because two little souls were worried about their momma. And my dad barked at me again, repeating his orders until I could function. I called Hubby and what I heard chilled me.

“We are under attack.”

It wasn’t the words, it was the tone of his voice. I was speaking to a soldier now, not a husband. One who had prepared for war at a very young age, thanks to his father. And one that was ready and willing to go, if and when the time came. He calmly told me to keep the kids occupied, and away from the TV until we knew the extent of the attack. And then he told me he wouldn’t be home for dinner.

Fast forward to yesterday. I overheard a woman speaking to her friend how she just didn’t understand why we don’t move on and not think about 9/11/01 any more. To her, it was just so long ago, and we should just put it behind us. I admit, I was very angry. Forgetting is the first step in repeating, after all. But 9/11 was not “long ago”. Not when you have a gaping hole still seeping in the middle of New York City, one that wounds the Nation’s soul. A gaping hole that keeps being salted by the likes of political correctness.

Remembering gives us hope. Remembering gives us a goal. Remembering honors those who were killed, and those who died to protect us.

Forgetting lets the terrorists win.

This is Only a Test

Well, it’s only a little quiz, really. And completely harmless and fun.You can’t fail, no one is here to grade you, and I was told there would be no math.

It’s the World’s Smallest Political Quiz.

Here are my results for 2011:

The last time I took this little quiz, it was 2007, and I was right above the letter “R” in “Right”. Quite a difference, n’est pas??

The times, they are a’changin’ 😉

Creatively borrowed from iOWT

Independence Day

Long may she wave!!

These colors never run.

As I read the Declaration of Independence, I come to the end of the Preamble, and read this:

But when a long train of abuses and usurpations, pursuing invariably the same Object evinces a design to reduce them under absolute Despotism, it is their right, it is their duty, to throw off such Government, and to provide new Guards for their future security.

That is my favorite part, the one quote that lies at the heart of what the Declaration means. There are some that choose to forget what this means, and there are others that fight for it, everyday.

There will come a time when we will need to throw off despotism, and provide new guards for our future security. History has taught us this: that she will repeat herself as long as ignorance abounds like putrescent mold upon the fabric of time.

Though this post is somber in thought, I hope you celebrate our country’s independence with joy, and much laughter, and while you are looking up to the heavens enjoying the fireworks, give a thought to the men and women who have sacrificed so much for our freedoms.

A Thanks for My Favorite Memory

I have a gift, and a curse. I have a great memory. It has saved me a few times, and gotten me in trouble a few times. It was a point of contention with Hubby for a long time, and a blessing to my godmother while researching our roots. Consequently, I have a lot of great and not-so-great memories. And by “a lot” I mean a lot. I can’t pick just one, so I will do my Top Ten:

10) Peeking over the caldera of Kilauea at Hawaii Volcanoes National Park.

9) Having Hubby show me killdeer nesting near the apartment where we first lived.

8 ) La Piedra Escrita (The Written Stone) in my hometown in PR. Petroglyphs from long ago, including a “cowboy”!

7) Any time my sisters and I got together during holidays. Too many to mention, but one in particular stands out. We all gathered in the Jack-and-Jill bath to compare derrieres. Y’all have to admit, that’s pretty funny!

6) Watching my dad and uncles sing danzas and trios while getting ripped during the holidays. Actually, that happens whenever they get together. One time they drove to a barra a few miles away and decided to serenade the patrons. Total epicness!

5) Driving through East Texas on the way to grandmother’s house (insert song here) and having Hubby tease the kids about llamas.

4) The first time Hubby ever kissed me.

3) My first concert: “Weird Al” Yankovic, and I had the best seat in the house.

2) The births of my children. Each was different, each was special, and each I remember with love.

1) The day of my wedding. Words are such poor substitutes for the joy I relive each time I recall that day.

So there you have it. Some of my favorite memories. I hope y’all have some to share, as well 🙂

To Someone Far Away

This letter is to someone who is in a different state or country. Yes, Hubby qualifies!! No, I’m not writing about him again. I thought of going in a more mundane direction in an attempt to keep my five readers entertained.

To Her Royal Highness, Queen Elizabeth II,

I love your hats. I love the fact that you got a ticket for speeding while driving your Jag. I love how you aren’t afraid of eating from a plate on your lap. I love how you like gin, and aren’t afraid to drink it in front of people. I love how you stoically hold the country together, and how endearing you look when Prince Phillip makes a blunt statement.

Hat, purse, Corgis, and Canada!!

You have been oil on troubled waters, and I pray that you live for many, many years, mostly because I fear for England with your idiot son on the throne. But most of all, I love the fact that you are a sucker for dogs. Just how many corgis do you have??

Sincerely,

A Subject That Never Was 🙂

In Remembrance

In honor of those who have died protecting our liberties.

In Flanders fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.

We are the Dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved and were loved, and now we lie,
In Flanders fields.

Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields.

For the brave men and women who died while in service to this great country.