Cemetery at Old Centre Royalston MA

If only you could read my resume. It would have a lot of life experience, a whole ton of odd stories, a dizzying collection of skills, and yet nothing you could possibly use to hire me for anything. Cemeteries are a good way of illustrating this because I have volunteered many a summer day to archive them. I know, you’re scrunching your nose wondering what exactly that means… It means I went out with a group of other women who were super into genealogy (which sadly, I am not) and we toured all the old cemeteries in the area, scribbling on outdated maps and tattered notebooks a few key details – where each stone was placed, what they were made of, what they read, and any other notes. These were being compiled for a book for prosperity – almost finished but not published yet.

I was the youngest on the crew in those days so my eyes were of more use than anything else. I was given the stones everyone else had given up on – the markers who were so worn down by wind and weather that they were virtually impossible to read. I LOVED this work. Sometimes I spent as much as forty five minutes trying to hobble together what one stone read, a task that took particularly long because old stones in New England often have whole poems inscribed on them. Often they’re beautiful rhyming quatrains, elegantly written in the vocabulary of the day, which makes trying to figure out what they say even more difficult. Luckily I had some practice in Old English and knew a few tricks (like old F’s look like S’s and words like “warbled” are nearly obsolete but real.)

I can’t tell you how great this experience was. I learned so much about local history doing this. I jotted down the graves of Revolutionary War soldiers, I witnessed in writing the lives and deaths of slaves (yes, New England had those too,) I got to see the profound effects of dysentery which killed a great deal of children under the age of ten, I also read on various stones about children dying in factory accidents, old women spontaneously combusting, and even a note to someone who had claimed to invent powdered milk. And if all that wasn’t enough I became familiar with the art – as many of these stones had intricate and eerie carvings of weeping willows, urns, bundles of wheat, cherubs, and skulls.

Imagine our surprise when we were driving to Doane’s Falls and stumbled upon a cemetery we hadn’t archived. I was thrilled, I can’t say the woman that organizes these little ventures was quite as much. This was a large cemetery and she thought she was done! We parked the car and took a quick jaunt to see if maybe she had just forgotten this place but nothing seemed to trigger her memory. I took a few photos and this is really what New England is all about – history, art, poetry, nature, and look at those stone walls in the background. I would miss those dearly if I ever left this place.

I will be writing a further entry if in fact we haven’t archived this cemetery because that means I will be back for a far closer look!

***I apologize for any missing photos and galleries as I continue to work getting Catching Marbles fully migrated to a new host. Please come back soon for restored photos and thank you for your patience!***

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April 20, 2017 0

Mammoth Caves – Tennessee

I was told Mammoth Caves were amazing and that I had to go. I were running very short on money by this time and chose one tour, the New Entrance Tour. It was between that and the Historical Tour. I was told by the desk guy the New Entrance Tour was a good starter with more formations than the historical tour which was just interesting because of all the odd things that have happened in the caves. That sounded good but I sort of wanted to see the pretty rocks… so I went on the New Entrance Tour. There were one hundred and fourteen people in my group, including two infants and a number of screaming children because a big dark hole in the earth is a perfect place to take such easily frightened individuals. I proceeded into the cave and walked down some stairs, and down some more, and down ever more… I was thinking to myself, “Holy crap, I hope I don’t have to climb all these back up again. I’m going to diiiie.” My calves were shaking violently. Really? I was so out of shape going down the stairs was too much? UGH. That’s what two months of constant car riding will do to you.

The cave itself was a dark underground tunnel with a few slimy looking rocks and a few points that you had to duck of squeeze through but they were wide enough for the giant fat man in front of me sooo I got through just fine. Anyway, there wasn’t much to see, just a tunnel. There were no stalactites or stalagmites or anything weird or pretty until the very very end. Finally I approached the Frozen Niagara, a wall of popcorn, some formations that looked like wedding cakes, all typically slimy. They were pretty… but I think the last cave I was in was actually prettier, even though it was damaged pretty bad. Here the damage seemed mostly to be in the graffiti which was carved EVERYWHERE. If I had kids I think I’d threaten to carve initials into them if they tried something like this. Not that hard to keep watch of your kids people… SIGH.

After the fairly disappointing tour I got to bathe my feet in Lysol. Something about saving the bats, which is all cool. Had I more money I would have checked out the historical tour and seen if that was any better. I was told the Wild Cave Tour was amazing. It was also the most expensive and apparently intensely physically taxing, taking six hours and winding you through almost the whole cave through some every tight squeezes. I have a I’ll be back…

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July 15, 2011 0

Mesa Verde National Park Colorado

While I was camping I came across a pamphlet to Mesa Verde. I had known there were old cliff dwellings somewhere in the area but I mistakenly thought it was Chaco Canyon and I skipped it the last time I was here because of that little mix-up. I decided to go check it out… it was phenomenal!

Driving in I asked the woman who took my entrance fee if it was a hike to see these things. She said yes but otherwise was of no help with my questions, only saying there was an additional guide fee to these places. I really hadn’t the energy to hike into the middle of nowhere and the idea of paying an additional fee for a guide annoyed and confused me. When I ended up at the visitor center everything was cleared up. Basically there is an auto road, free where you can see a lot from a fair distance. Then there is a cliff dwelling you can go into for free, but it is a short hike down and then back up the cliffs. The rest, the guided tours, were to get into all the other dwellings and have someone teach me about them. Each tour had a group of 50 people and were an additional $3 per site to see.

I went into the Spruce Tree House, the free cliff dwelling. There was lots of people. The structure was still a ruin but a very interesting one, there were windows and different rooms, corn grinding stones, and an underground kiva that you could get to by ladder. There was a line for that and I watched as an impossible amount of people file out of it like a clown car. I waited and went in after they came out, making jokes with the girl aside us. “This is the first time I have waited in line to get into someone’s basement.” It was a round and very dark room, reinforced by a number of logs. There wee little niches here and there but all and all it wasn’t that big of a place. After this group of people went in, probably numbering twenty or more, we all filed back out. It was interesting.

I walked back up the cliff. I was huffing and puffing. Hikes straight up hills and cliffs always get to me. When we got to the top we took some photos. I accidentally got in the way of an Asian couple taking a photo (I hadn’t seen them there.) I backed up, smiling.

I entered the museum after this and I fell in love with their black and white pottery which looked so much like some of my own artwork it was a bit eerie. Here they had all sorts of things on display, a set of dioramas displaying the engineering of the structures. The fact all the Indians were depicted wearing loin cloths made me quite tweaky because if they really dressed that way they’d freeze their asses off in winter! Surely enough the next display was on a bunch of clothes remnants archeologists had found… full clothing, head to toe. SIGH. White people are so racist. It reminded me of my grade school text books where the Native Americans celebrating the first Thanksgiving were also prancing around in loin cloths… as if! As much I am in support of such liberating clothing I’ve been in Massachusetts in November. Suffice to say if you don’t want to get frost bite on your balls you better cover up.

I also got to play “guess what the object is for” with a bunch of little items that still baffle anthropologists. I think I had good guesses… rings, game pieces, etc. It was a neat little museum.

Afterwards I decided to take the auto road, with thunder booming in the background and threatening me with rain. The first stop was an overlook of The Square House. It took all my breath away. It looked so perfect and serene sitting in the middle of a cliff. I pondered how they even got into that crevice to build it in the first place, it seemed to be a sheer surface both above and below it. The other tourists remarked how amazing it was and what a lovely surprise.

The next stop I got to see the evolution of the pueblos. They hadn’t always been on a cliff. Apparently the Anasazi were one of the first cultures out here to settle down and make permanent residences instead of living nomadically. At first they built homes underground. I got to see what was left of them. Some still had pottery in tact and venting systems. It was really neat.

I drove around and looked at these things, all under modern structures to keep them preserved. This was fortunate as by now it was pouring. The rain finally let up at the end of the road when I reached the Sun Temple. I could walk around the outside of it and then there was the most amazing thing of all… an overview of almost all the structures here in the park. There before me in the cliffs, hidden, were whole little villages and homes, scattered everywhere. It was like seeing something completely camouflaged come to life. I took photos and gawked for a very long while. The sheer engineering and beauty of these structures was more than enough to marvel at. I was very happy with the trip here.

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July 5, 2011 0

Dinosaur Footprints Arizona

There was a big tacky sign aside the road reading “Dinosaur footprints!” with a depiction of… Godzilla mixed with a critter and dressed up in psychedelic colors? I’m not sure what the artist was trying to say there… but with a sign that confused how could I not stop? I had a suspicion it was a tourist trap where unwary tourists disappear never to be heard from again. At the time this seemed a fair enough risk. It actually wasn’t bad! I was flagged down as I drove in by a guy standing next to a jewelry stand. He proceeded to take us on a tour, showing us all sorts of footprints from allosaur and velociraptor and two others that either weren’t identified or I forgot. Oddly no herbivorous footprints but I did see baby velociraptor footprints bounding along next to their mommy and one set of baby allosaur footprints ambling alongside its mommy. The neatest part was a track showing where a velociraptor was running full speed, jumped, and then slid in the mud before gaining its balance again. It painted the picture of an athletic and perhaps somewhat clumsy creature. I could imagine them playing in the mud a bit like a big cat.

I was also shown a dinosaur ribcage still embedded in the rock as well as a claw and lots and lots of dinosaur poop. I was given a chip of fossilized vegetation, a little coprolite (fossilized poo) and a sliver of petrified wood found here as well as some red rocks the locals use to make jewelry. I think this may have been just because the guy liked me (I showed genuine interest and didn’t bring any screaming destructive children.) At the end of the tour I was happy and gave our tour guide a tip/donation for the journey back into time. It was really rather neat! He also told me where to find some Anasazi petroglyphs that were about to be fenced off from the public due to vandalism. That pisses me right off by the way… vandals who destroy precious pieces of history like petroglyphs from the eleventh century from an extinct tribe! What the hell! Keep your kids on a fucking leash if they’re the type that does this! I’ll end my rant here.

If you are enjoying Catching Marbles please consider adding a dollar or two to my limited gas money fund so I can continue going on adventures and sharing them with you! Thank you!

July 1, 2011 0

Ashfall Fossil Beds – Nebraska

The Ashfall Fossil Beds was something I found looking at the pamphlets in other fossil places. I had no idea what to expect but it looked neat.. Apparently they had a rhino barn. I wasn’t sure what that had to do with anything but that’s alright, I was about to find out.

It was a $5 admission fee per person, plus an additional $4 Nebraska parking permit fee. I guess the Jeep needed admission too. The place was small but had very nice specimens of all sorts of things. They had the evolution of the horse hoof, a fossil turtle, and pieces of diseased bone fragments. Outside I walked a very short path listed with the evolutionary timeline. Soon I found myself in the rhino barn, lined with posters of weird creatures I’d never heard of that they’d found here. There were saber toothed deer, several species of American camels, tons of dog species that there’s no longer an equivalent to, several species of horse, and even a horned rodent that looked almost like a rhino and a gopher got together one strange dark evening.

At the end of the rhino barn three paleontology students worked to brush aside the sand and reveal a mass mortality of rhinos. Apparently a super volcano went off ten million years ago and killed the whole herd, adults, babies, even a fetus. As morbid as it was it was fascinating. Another student loitered at the sides, desperate to be doing something. She said if I had any questions just ask. Her high strung energy was a bit much but I suppose.

Outside was another small building, another girl worked here to pick tiny bones out of the sand, salamander vertebrae, bits of turtle shell, the toes of a desert mouse, the tail of a rattlesnake. I asked her if there was a favorite critter she likes to find. She replied the salamanders made her the happiest. We talked for a while. She seemed enthusiastic and sweet. After this I left. It was a neat little place, definitely worth checking out, even though it made me trek through the most boring stretch of grasslands in the country for hours on end…

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June 29, 2011 0

Mount Rushmore South Dakota

As a history buff and a lover of art you’d think I’d be thrilled to visit mount Rushmore. I mean it’s so…. big. Surely if someone had put that much time and effort into making a sculpture you can probably see in outer space it must be amazing, right? yeah, I wasn’t convinced of that either…. but still I find myself here.

I actually missed the exit to go to Mount Rushmore so I ended up going to its antithesis first. Crazy Horse Memorial is a Rushmore-esque mountain carving of the famed Native American leader, basically put up on the mountain in a moment of spite. Hey, I’m not saying that’s a bad thing. The face is absolutely stunning. I just had hoped more of it was done than the face since it had boasted to someday be a full figure riding a horse. Nope… I saw it, I snapped a quick photo, I left.

Rushmore wasn’t much better. It was free to get into but $11 parking and no way you could see it unless you drove in as trees conveniently blocked the view everywhere else. I walked in. There were people and obnoxious children everywhere. Lining the way was a collection of flags representing each state. NH was faded to the point I’m not really sure what was supposed to be on it (and memory fails to remind me.) The sun was glaring so bad I could only see it by squinting real hard. My cameras were no more fond of this lighting. Still, the story behind it was impressive… one guy’s dream, to sculpt a whole frickin’ mountain… Of course he had to stop at just their heads but isn’t it the thought that counts? Perhaps if Crazy Horse is ever finished then Mount Rushmore might get a make over too. They had an enormous gift shop with overpriced goods, absolutely packed with people. No interesting magnets. The postcards were crap too. I didn’t even buy any. We left.

If you are enjoying Catching Marbles please consider adding a dollar or two to my limited gas money fund so I can continue going on adventures and sharing them with you! Thank you!

June 29, 2011 0

Fossil Fish Dig – Kemmerer Wyoming

On Thursday morning I was back at Ulrich’s Fossil Gallery to go out fossil fishing. I were guaranteed 6-8 full fish specimens.

I went out with a teenage boy, Dylan, whose summer job it was to work the quarry, and a friendly middle aged couple named Lynn and Bill. I drove in a beat up old truck up a dirt road that led straight to the center of the mountain. Let me tell you, the ride was steep! At one point we passed two or three antelope.

“What pretty animals.” Bill exclaimed, before asking if it was legal to hunt them. It was. Shame, they were very pretty. I refrained from asking what the little rodents dashing across the road were. I didn’t really feel like looking like an idiot. That’d be like someone coming up to me in NH and asking what the squirrels were.

Anyway! I came to the quarry, which was a small section where rocks could be seen piled up like sheets. I were given a hammer and chisel and given a quick demonstration before being given the opportunity to pick one of three spots. I chose the one I could climb on. It was the first rock I found the first fish, three actually, although two were “exploded” and could no longer really be identified as fish. Apparently not only full skeletons are preserved in the fossilization process, but sometimes piles of decomposed goo are as well. Decomposed goo or not I was proud of my first find, and the little skeletal fishy was perfect in my eyes. Besides, the exploded fish didn’t actually count as normal people don’t like to keep them…

It took a while but eventually I found a partial big fossil, a mioplosus, a somewhat rare find here.

After this the rock got real fragile. Apparently it had gotten wet at some point and some of the layers were flecking off like paper, revealing fossils that in no way could actually be preserved. This was frustrating, I dug through all of that and back down to the hard layers. Apparently the “18 inch layer” where all the commercial digging was done had the consistency of concrete. That’s where the professionals dug with heavy machinery and of course I wouldn’t be chipping away at that layer. I found the allotted amount of fish I was promised, in three different species, knightia, mioplosus, and diplomystus. All except the mio were a few inches in length and preserved wonderfully. I was very happy with the finds. Over on the other side of the quarry another group had found three monster fish, complete too. One had to be extracted with a saw. All this and I felt bad for the couple who was in our group who found substandard fossils, all tiny, many very fragile, and not a hell of a lot of them. They were such a sweet couple too!

Coming back from the dig was an adventure all its own. Imagine being in a beat up old truck going down such a steep hill that looking out of the back of it you couldn’t see the road behind you, just fresh mountain air. Now imagine going down that same hill knowing that the road was only vaguely the width of the vehicle you’re in and any mistake would result in you toppling off the side and rolling down the mountain. Nerve racking! I made it though, as Dylan told us why his truck’s roof was slashed to bits. “Some of the other guys up here sometimes get bored and test their new blades on the ceiling…”

I was super pleased with my finds. I wasn’t really expecting much. The trilobite dig was a lot of fun (and a completely different experience, being in different rock) but this had its own charm. I even found myself rather liking the little fish that once swam around here, eons before my existence. I was told of a dinosaur dig in Montana but the funds were running thin. Perhaps I’ll come back for that someday. Still, the fish quarry people insist that customers on the “fossil tour” (trilobite, fish, and dinosaur digs) said their fish digging was the best of the three. We’ll see!

If you are enjoying Catching Marbles please consider adding a dollar or two to my limited gas money fund so I can continue going on adventures and sharing them with you! Thank you!

June 22, 2011 0

Windsor Ruins – Mississippi

In Mississippi I went to the Windsor Ruins. Apparently this absolutely enormous building was built as the largest Greek Revival mansion in the state. It only stood for a few years before it burned from the top down leaving nothing but 24 eerie columns. I tried to go after dark (against park rules) but didn’t make it. Still it was oddly impressive, nestled in some rugged and wild country. It was quiet and so peaceful out there. The columns reached towards the sky with a little plant growing on one. Some of them were crumbled and I guess the metal stairway that was left after the flames was taken by a local church. It was a bit weird in the sense it felt like I was looking at a Greek ruin in the middle of frickin’ Mississippi.

As I left I noticed a dirt road, apparently going to nowhere. Seeing as the road I was supposed to take was closed due to flooding the decision was made to try this one. I travelled farther and farther down this road as it got increasingly worse. It got narrower, the path got more bumpy. It looked like the last travelers through here might have been in a Conestoga wagon. Then, as if I was on some sort of crazy safari I saw something dash across the road at such an alarming speed that I couldn’t even come close to identifying the wee beast. I turned around and took the path more travelled.

As it turns out I think I figured out what the strange blur I saw was. Apparently armadillos are a small, probably mythological, southern creatures with the armor of centipede and the speed of light. I had been wanting to see a live one and in all the photos they look so placid and even slow.. HA! Wrong! I also got to see two deer cross the road and it was broad daylight.

I took lots of photos of the scenery because it was just gorgeous down that way with gorges filled with greenery and vines wrapping around trees. It was a strange landscape. On my way out I came across yet another roadblock, this time on a main highway. I stopped and a very young officer asked, “So where y’all trying to go?” Apparently, “I don’t know.” isn’t a great answer to give someone. He picked up his little list of places to go and ventured a guess, “Arkansas? And you’re taking which highway?” “Uhhh…. Let me see…” This time the GPS was consulted and the cop just started laughing. “Oh you got a Garmin. I had one of those. She told me to drive straight into a lake once.” Comforting thought! Thanks! Apparently the Big Black River had overflowed and I had to go literally an hour out of our way to get back on track.

When I got back into town, and after passing this particular gas station three or four times trying to find an addressless ghost town, I stopped in to fill up. The locals were ever so helpful… “You trying to get to Vicksburg? We saw you pass by a few times…” Great, now I’m being watched! SIGH. Can’t do anything conspicuously these days.

If you are enjoying Catching Marbles please consider adding a dollar or two to my limited gas money fund so I can continue going on adventures and sharing them with you! Thank you!

May 26, 2011 0

Arkansas’ Largest Natural Bridge

I saw a number of really huge signs aside the highway reading, “Arkansas’ largest natural bridge!” How could I not want to follow them like a lamb to slaughter? So I took the heavy, overloaded Jeep, and pursued a dirt road that zigzagged in every direction worse than San Fran’s famous Lombard Street. Did I mention it was a mountain road so I was also going down hill at an increasingly uncomfortable angle. I think the Jeep may have been crying, or at least slightly whimpering. Jeeps are tough after all.

Finally I ended up at a tiny ramshackle little mock-up of a pioneer house and a tiny parking lot. Where’s the bridge? I walked in and the attendant, a young guy, jumped up seemingly all happy to see another living soul. He rattled off everything there was to see here and the $5 fee. Then he instructed me to sign the guestbook and seemed not to know what to say next so I meandered out, only after noticing that in the middle of the day I was the only visitor here and had come from the farthest distance by a long shot. I walked out and saw the little recreation of an Ozark classic, the moonshining still, complete with scary wax figurine armed with a shotgun. Above there was another pioneer house, complete with artifacts from the era, including a coffee grinder the size of a dormitory fridge. There was even an antique fly trap! It looked remarkably like a hanging beekeeper’s hat.

So I walked out down this path in the middle of the woods and there it was, signs reading, “Do not climb or cross bridge! Stay on path!” Above that of course was a strange site, a bridge made of stone, a seemingly natural formation but still somewhat unsettling as it did indeed look like an intended bridge. I took a few snaps, walked up the path as far as I could, goofed around a bit, and came back.. Interesting detour.

If you are enjoying Catching Marbles please consider adding a dollar or two to my limited gas money fund so I can continue going on adventures and sharing them with you! Thank you!

May 26, 2011 0

New Orleans

Good old New Orleans, how could I forget America’s home to Voodoo, ghost tours, beloved vampire writers, and Mardi Gras? I decided to start my little journey by heading towards the famous French Quarters, a magical place where diaper-wearing horses pull carts around the streets. No no, I ended up parking comfortably near the French Quarter for $14 and I walked around. I was in search of a skirt… you know one of those airy ankle-length ones that they apparently don’t sell in the South… and to be quite frank they don’t sell skirts period down here. Whhhy?! It’s so frickin’ hot you’d think everyone would be wearing them! I would settle for an ankle length sundress of course but all the ones here went to your knees and were made of hot materials. It made no sense. I weaved in out of Voodoo shops as a reward for sticking it out and trying to find a skirt, a abysmal activity if there ever were one. Skulls abounded.

I stopped wherever it looked interesting, or just air conditioned in the case of the Magaritaville, apparently a whole parrothead-inspired margarita-flinging bar. I only stayed in its stoop for a few minutes so I could go on. In the meantime mules and horses clacked by with their tourist carriages telling of pirates and voodoo priestesses. I passed by the Voodoo priestesses’ bar and her little voodoo shop. I may have gone in there if a bunch of locals weren’t in the stoop debating something.

After I walked around the main part of the French Quarters I meandered up to Bourbon Street for shits and giggles, figured it’d be interesting people watching if nothing else. That was interesting to say the least! The first thing I stumbled upon was a seedy cabaret with a barker out front. I looked him dead in the eye to see if he’d still make his pitch and laughed when at first hesitated but then actually did! I walked by, obviously. I had no idea the States even had cabarets. Seems such an odd thing to me, bet you they probably named it such to make it sound more interesting than it actually was. In any event I walked past a lot of little strip joints and whatnot, a great deal of them with cutesy little names like The Cat’s Meow. I passed by pubs, bars, and other liquor friendly little nooks, some reading, “two drink minimum,” which seemed more than a tad bit odd. Apparently there was no room for responsible drivers here.

It was a scalding hot day and I had to take time out to lather myself up with sun screen in a public courtyard. I was melting. I ended up back in the French Market scouring the area for a cold non-alcoholic drink when in the spirit of trying new things I also bought a praline. Good thing I only bought one… it was really rather sweet, to a fault. Will not be trying that again.

I had a lot of fun just wandering around. The streets weren’t that busy, the people were friendly, and there was a lemon piper playing classic jazz on sax down at the piers. Every time a dollar was donated this hilarious musician would holler, “Thanks big guy! Have a great day!” before going right back to the same note he left off on. I didn’t come by anyone with a thick New Orleans accent either, which was fortunate as that’s probably the only US accent even I can’t translate.

If you are enjoying Catching Marbles please consider adding a dollar or two to my limited gas money fund so I can continue going on adventures and sharing them with you! Thank you!

May 25, 2011 0