There Once Was a Little Girl...

I threw a tantrum this morning.  I had a real temper when I was little and my mother used to taunt me when I acted out with that little poem, "There once was a little girl who had a little curl right in the middle of her forehead.  When she was good she was very very good, but when she was bad she was horrid."  She also believed in corporal punishment and as a result I learned to control my temper, but I always told my mother she beat it into me, not out of me.  It lurks at my core and occasionally I let it loose when I'm really frustrated.  Actually when I'm alone and frustrated and there seems to be no good reason not to let it rip, it's kind of liberating.  

I was trying to get ready to go out earlier today.  I decided I'd take Dixie, return the last of the three library books I'd finished, check out a couple more and perhaps drive to Central City.  I've been in a testy mood for several days.  I'm not sure why.  My allergies are flaring up a bit so I've been contending with congestion and a runny nose, itchy eyes and eustachian tubes; the fox hadn't shown up this morning and I was worried about her; and it's the last week before the Social Security check arrives so, as usual, I'm being forced to really curtail my expenditures.  But the IRS came through yesterday with the refund on that double dip payment they'd helped themselves to, so, even though I'd socked the money into my savings account, I should have been in a pretty good frame of mind.  Whatever.  

It seems as if no matter how hard I try, I can't get this one-room cabin organized so living here isn't frustrating.  Last fall as part of the continuing effort, I made tags for these baskets I use for my clothes...

It took some doing to get the type situated on the page "just so" so I could cut out the printed categories using a tag die I'd purchased.  Then I punched holes in the tags and used some cute little ribbon to tie them onto the baskets.  This really did help me keep my clothing where I could find it more easily.  But today I was trying to find a black vest.  I knew I'd worn it not too long ago, but it wasn't in the Cardigans/Vests bin so I looked in the Tops bin, then the Scarves, Gloves and Hat bin.  Nada.  Finally, in frustration, I dumped everything that hadn't already been pulled out on the bed onto the floor...

...this photo does not do justice to the mess I created.  I never did find the vest and had to change what I planned to wear.  I got my book and purse, put Dixie in the car and left this just this way, went to the library and drove to Central City.  

Central City is a really neat old Colorado mining town that has preserved its Victorian/Edwardian past...

 The town even has its own "opera house"...

I am drawn to this era and would be very happy living here I think.  Central City and adjacent Blackhawk, the local "sin city," have numerous casinos, but I don't really enjoy gambling even if I'd had the money and I  didn't want to park and leave Dixie unattended for long.  I drove through town and ended up at the cemetery.  

 

I decided to get out and take a look thinking the tombstones might be interesting from an historical perspective, but this was one of the most disconcerting cemeteries I've ever been in.  Back in the Midwest, and I think in most parts of the country, even old cemeteries are tended.  They are always grass covered and the plots and headstones are upright and in nice even lines.

Maybe it was just my mood--when I dropped Dixie off at her owner's bookshop on our return I mentioned where we'd been and she said she'd been at the cemetery last fall and found it "very peaceful."  

I was the only one at the cemetery and it was overcast and very quiet.  The only sounds were a squirrel and, believe it or not, a raven.  I wasn't frightened, but felt sad the town wasn't doing a better job of taking care of the graves.  

I'm only going to post a few photos although I took dozens of individual markers.  But let me know if you think this looks "peaceful"...

One disconcerting issue was that the graves were so haphazardly situated.   I don't know if the trees had grown up among the tombstones or if the graves had been dug in among the trees, but as you looked up the hill through the trees there were tombstones scattered hither and yon up the rise as far as you could see.  It was kind of like the Body Farm with tombstones.

  

Appropriately, this abandoned mine building loomed over the whole scene...

I thought about holding these until Halloween, but it is what I did today.  

There was some beautiful carving on some of the headstones...

So, if you narrow your focus, you can find beauty anywhere.


Oh, yes, when I got back I had to clean up my mess.  I made lemonade out of lemons and took advantage of the situation to pack up most of my winter clothes so I can take them to storage.  I finally found the black vest...in this hat box!

Bed and floor are clear and I'll be hitting the hay soon and opening one of the two books I checked out of the library today.  And the fox has been here while I've been doing this blog so she's OK as well.  Teddee