#her ashes got buried on the family farm in the most beautiful spot with a really pretty bench to mark it

[fletcher-bit-me]

Right when i get back from my aunty's funeral i get a reel in my feed about how funerals should have themes and now i wish we did that

[shadylake-blog]

I never knew this kind of misery could exist until this year. Grief is overwhelming. I can easily say this has been the worst year for my family. Every day I try and give thanks that no one else is dead, or dying (well even that is not true a couple family members not doing so well with their health but they do not have cancer or anything that awful, so I should be grateful right?) I have learned being a better person does not make your life easier. Karma does not exist. My sweet poor baby brother, only 4 years younger than me died in January to start my year off. He would be 22 right now if he would have been alive for his birthday this month. I used to love the rain, now I have mixed feelings. That day I knew something bad was going to happen. I wrote the date two times for various things and got chills each time I wrote it. I watched The Butterfly Effect, which used to be one of my favorite movies until that happened, thinking about how true it was. He passed a semi truck with a car in front of them on that rainy night in January heading west towards the coast, that day it just rained and rained and rained. It was 10PM and dark. I was on the exact same spot on the road 10 minutes before the accident, about 10 miles outside of town. He hydroplaned, rolled and managed to defy physics and come back the other direction and rolled into a telephone pole that hit the drivers side. Completely demolished the car. Passenger was unscathed. He had a pulse for 20 minutes on scene, and was never taken to a hospital at all to even attempt to revive him. Just thrown into a body bag once pulse had stopped... makes me sick to my stomach just thinking about it. At midnight I realized I had 36 missed calls from my mom and step-dad. I was busy arguing with my controlling gas lighting “boyfriend” about tattoos, he was made that I got them. I was thinking someone got pulled over for driving while suspended or something. I never thought about my brother dying, not once my entire life. My mom blubbered “He is dead,” I said “What do you mean?” “He is dead your brother is dead he got in a car wreck” “No it can not be him are you sure?” “Yes I am sure” (can barely understand her both of us just completely blubbering and hysterical now) “How do you know did you see him?” “The police came and told me, his wallet was on him it was his car.” Now having never dealt with death in any way shape or form, not even a distant cousin, I did not know how to react other than scream. I had a slight hope maybe someone stole his car and wallet, because the passenger was not one of his friends I knew, it was someone I had never even heard my brother talk about. But I cried and screamed for days and days and days. The next morning I immediately went out to the crash sight which was right behind my moms house across a big field and put up a cross on the pole. It was still pouring, I had another one drying at home with his name on it. The scene was horrific. They left all of his costs and personal belongings just strung out all over the side of the road.PIECES OF SHIT. After they let him bleed out. Puddles of blood all over the ground in the mud. His car title, personal mail, the coats he had on that night (the passenger posted a photo of them before they left and ten minutes later he was dying) other things he had in his car like work clothes and nails and tools, he was a roofer. He always had those rings of nails everywhere. Just left out like hes worthless trash. The lack of respect for a dead 21 year old kid you did not even take to the hospital...Fucking disgusting. I went out and cleaned everything up. I could not even see my brother until Wednesday, 4 days later. It was a Saturday night when it happened. Towing company would not even let us look at his car until Tuesday. My step-dad, mother and I looked at the car in complete horror. It looked like it been crushed. How the passenger escaped unscathed I really have no idea the entire dashboard was caved in, windshield gone. Blood all over the drivers seat and floor where they just let him lay there and bleed out. Somehow his weed pipe (that was under the passenger seat in a toolbox he was not smoking and he does not drink) was not broken, neither was his phone which was smashed in between the drivers seat and console but it was cracked. We always told each other our passwords in case something like this happened never thinking we would actually have to use it... That day he asked probably 20 people to go all day including his girlfriend, and he could not get anyone to go until 10 o'clock at night when the passenger had said sure I will go. The last thing his girlfriend said to him was “I wish you would go kill yourself”, they had been together for 3 years. I know that when people are arguing they say things like that, I do not hold it against her but its unfortunate she has to live with that being the last thing she said to him. His steering wheel and dashboard were so crushed the keys had to be forcibly removed, I still carry the sideways key around on my key chain because this has made me completely insane, as if I did not struggle enough with depression and anxiety before this from constantly being broke trying to raise a child on my own and never having daycare. That is a story for another day. But this has really fucked me up. He was not a sibling I occasionally see on the holidays, that’s who I called when I really just needed a friend. We went camping and hiking all the time together. We never sat on our phones when we went so we hardly had any pictures together. He was always there for me as a child and an adult, even though I was such a bitch when we were younger. He was always so good to me, the best brother anyone could ever ask for. I hear these people talk about the things their brothers do them, and I am like my brother would have never done that to me... He was such a good person even when people did him wrong. He had a heart of gold and was so unique he had so much potential and was just starting to grow up. Besides my child, there is no other person in the world I loved more than him. I have two other siblings but they are 14 and 11 years younger than me. I love them but I do not share the same bond and he was my only full sibling. When I actually finally got to see him at the morgue (and I was the only family member that even went to see him the rest found it too “traumatizing” I wanted to see what the hell happened) my stomach sank. It was definitely him. My poor little brother, laying on a fucking slab. I just kissed his forehead over and over wishing I could somehow blow the life back into him... I know that can never happen. He will rot in the ground forever. It was just a slight dent on his head under his hair. His beautiful brown hair. You will never convince me he should have not tried to have been saved. I have seen people survive way worse injuries but they were taken to a hospital. They literally just let him lay there until his pulse stopped. I’m too poor to afford an attorney. Just like my grandpa that I never met, but I have been told by my entire family he was beat by a bunch of police officers and left to die in the hospital. My grandmas mom was overdosed in Tylenol at the hospital and her sister died of alcohol poisoning because the hospital would not treat her. Why are the poor just left to die? Because the poor can not afford lawyers, and they know it. I visited him almost every day for the 2 weeks in the morgue, we did not exactly have 5 grand laying around for a funeral so I had to gather some money before the services. I felt awful letting him stay in a morgue that long, but my other choice was cremation which I do not believe in. I wanted it to do it as my native american ancestors did which was bury him outside in a cave but its illegal. I have seen too many cremations where people get the wrong ashes when the DNA test them and I wanted a proper burial, and a place to visit him. We built the casket since I was not paying an additional 5 grand for a wooden box with pillows in it. My stepdad found old redwood on the farm and various other woods to build it with. My brother would have liked it, because he loved to fall trees. He did it for fun almost every time we went to the woods. “Sis, lets go to the woods so I can cut down a tree.” He called me Sis even as an adult. The handles were made out of deer antlers, his first deer that he killed. I bought him a red comforter set because that was his favorite color. I dressed him in his banana pajama pants and his work shirt, because he loved roofing, and one of his cozy flannels. I hope you're cozy brother. Lots of people showed up to the funeral. At least 100 people. My boss and coworker, my brothers coworkers, all my family, even distant family we never really speak to like my grandpas brother. People I did not know. My moms ex husband (my other siblings father) and his parents came. It was a very sad day, watching my grandparents cry as he went into the ground. Everyone took turns getting up to speak. I did as well, but it took so much courage for me to get up there in front of everyone and not bawl and bawl and bawl. I have never seen so many grown men cry in my life until that day. I tried so hard not to bawl but when he went into the ground I lost it, everyone did. We waited until he was buried and smoked a joint on his grave and planted some flowers even though it was freezing and raining and cold. I really did everything I could to make sure he had a proper burial. The celebration of life was a week later, another day we had to put fake smiles on our faces and socialize. What is amazing is how many people it united. But it comes back to The Butterfly Effect, if I would have said hey lets hangout. If I would have been on that road ten minutes later, because I was right fucking there right before it happened. If anyone else would have said they would go and he would have left earlier. Most importantly, if they would have taken him to a hospital and actually tried to do something instead of letting him lay there until his pulse stopped and then throwing him into a body bag. I will never, ever forget him and will never let his legacy die.

[ianfaulkner1-blog]

By Roxanne Reid The stories of Africa’s trees are also tales of its people and animals, from Herman Charles Bosman’s withaak to Rudyard Kipling’s Limpopo fever tree. Think baobabs that are 6 000 years old or marula trees long believed to have elephants stumbling away drunk. In these 10 stories about trees in Africa let’s root out the fables, facts and fictions about some remarkable African trees.

​1. Baobab bar The Sunland baobab in Limpopo is one of the world’s widest; about 30 people could join hands around its trunk. Radio carbon dating suggests parts of it are more than 1700 years old. Old baobabs become hollow and in 1993 Doug and Heather van Heerden, who own the farm where it stands, cleared out the compost build-up in the hollow. They discovered Bushman artefacts and tools that Voortrekkers used to fix their ox wagons. They turned the hollow space into a pub complete with door, railway sleeper bar and draft beer. ‘We’ve had 60 people inside the pub at once,’ says Heather, ‘but a big branch broke so now it’s open plan.’ In April 2017 another part of the trunk collapsed, though the oldest wood is still standing. ‘We’re hoping the broken trunk will start to grow again.’ Where: Sunland Farm, Modjadjiskloof, Limpopo. Sadly, as of May 2019 it is no longer open to the public. Factfile: Baobabs flower on spring nights and bats pollinate them.

2. Circles in a forest If you visit the indigenous Knysna forests on South Africa’s Garden Route you’ll understand what inspired Dalene Matthee’s book Circles in a Forest. Ahead of his time, her character Saul Barnard worries about the forest’s survival and the exploitative greed of timber merchants. Matthee died in 2005 and her ashes were scattered at a monument near an 880-year-old Outeniqua yellowwood. The tree towers above the canopy and Saul would be pleased to know it is now protected as a Champion Tree, which may not be damaged in any way. Walk one of the ‘Circles in a Forest’ trails nearby to immerse yourself in the forest atmosphere. Where: Krisjan se Nek picnic site, Goudveld Forest, Knysna. Factfile: Outeniqua yellowwood is South Africa’s tallest species, reaching up to 60m. In the past, the trees were used for ship’s masts. 3. Wonder tree The Wonderboom is a 1000-year-old giant wild fig. Over time its branches drooped to the ground and took root to form a circle of 13 daughter trunks – something not typical of the species. Voortrekkers rested under it in the 1830s. In her 1882 book In the Land of Misfortune Lady Florence Dixie noted that more than 22 ox-wagons and hundreds of people could shelter under it. The mother tree suffered some damage in the early 1900s when people dug holes looking for the Kruger millions. Today its crown is the largest of any South African tree – about half the length of a rugby field. It has been declared a Champion Tree in a Department of Agriculture, Forestry & Fisheries project that protects notable trees. Where: Wonderboom Nature Reserve, Pretoria. Factfile: Local legend claims it’s so huge because a tribal chief is buried under it. The summer fruits turn yellowish-pink when ripe. 4. Safe house poplar A skinny Lombardy poplar outside the safe house belonging to Ruth Fischer Rice was a beacon of hope for people on the run during apartheid. Ruth’s father, activist Bram Fischer, led the legal team that defended Nelson Mandela and his co-defendants during the 1963/4 Rivonia Trial. Although the prosecution wanted the death penalty, the team secured a sentence of life in prison. This changed the course of history, allowing Mandela to become South Africa’s first democratically elected president in 1994. ‘The people who stayed with us were mainly young men and a few young women referred to us by people we knew,’ Ruth remembers. ‘Some stayed for several months. There was surveillance but we were never raided. A storm-water drain ran from our street to the neighbouring [Johannesburg] Country Club, through which our son could lead anyone who needed to escape.’  ​Where: Corner of Lothbury and Fawley avenues, Auckland Park, Johannesburg. Factfile: The poplar tree is a fast-growing alien that sends out suckers – even from the stump after it is cut down.

5. Spring glory Zimbabwe’s musasa trees (also known as igonde, msasa and mutsatsa) drop their leaves in winter. Then, for just three weeks each September, the new leaves create a blaze of colour before they turn green for summer. ‘They are a variety of tones from palest blush to burnt orange and burgundy, with gold and reds in between,’ says artist Lin Barrie, who completed a series of paintings inspired by this spring colour. ‘Musasas were part of my early bush experiences, with branches to climb on, colour to marvel at and carpets of flowers and mushrooms beneath. My father was a keen walker and birder and as a child I often went with him on excursions to the musasas. They were the backdrop for birds like spotted creepers, owls and pennant-winged nightjars.’ Lin’s oils and acrylics of natural scenes are in collections around the world. Where: Mukuvisi Woodlands in Harare, Zimbabwe, in September. You can see permanent displays of Lin Barrie’s art at her studio in Borrowdale Brooke Estate, Harare, or at the Cape Gallery in Church Street, Cape Town. Factfile: The orange caterpillars of the musasa moth appear in masses in March to feed on the trees. 6. The lion fig ‘Just north of Busanga Bush Camp in Zambia’s Kafue National Park lies an enormous sycamore fig tree on elevated ground,’ says safari guide Isaac Kalio. ‘The local tree-climbing Busanga lion pride likes to rest in the horizontal branches, so although it’s a beautiful picnic spot you first have to check who’s there! It produces four fruit crops a year that attract many animals. Tiny wasps breed inside the fruit and are in charge of pollination. The sycamore fig has been incorporated into Zambian teaching about HIV/AIDS because just as you can’t tell by looking at the outside of the fruit if it contains insects, you can’t tell by looking at someone’s face if they are HIV positive.’ Sad news is that this particular sycamore fig tree at Busanga fell in April 2019. Where: 500m north of Busanga Bush Camp, Kafue National Park, Zambia. Factfile: The genus is 60 million years old and the sycamore fig was mentioned in the bible.

7. Symbols and stamps The quiver tree is Namibia’s national tree and a symbol of the south, where it grows in rocky areas of desert and semi-desert. It got its name in the 17th century when Dutch Cape colony governor Simon van der Stel learnt that the San hollowed out its tube-like branches to make quivers to stash their poisoned arrows during the hunt. The trunks of dead quiver trees were also used as natural fridges to store water and meat because the fibrous tissue has a cooling effect as air passes through it. A member of the aloe family, it is protected in Namibia. It featured on Namibian postage stamps five times between 1961 and 2010 and appears on the Namibian 50c coin. Quiver trees were declared endangered by the International Union for Conservation of Nature (IUCN) in 2010. Where: Quiver tree forest 14km northeast of Keetmanshoop, Namibia. Factfile: The quiver tree can live 100-200 years but only starts flowering at 20-30 years and has bright yellow flowers in winter. It is well adapted to hot, dry climates but coming under increasing threat from climate change.

‘Yes, there on the grass, in the shade of the withaak, the leopard and I lay down together. The leopard lay half curled up, like a dog, and whenever I tried to move away, he grunted. I am sure that in the whole history of the Groot Marico there have never been two stranger companions engaged in the thankless task of looking for strayed cattle.’ Herman Charles Bosman, In the Withaak’s Shade ​

8. Oom Schalk’s tree When Herman Charles Bosman’s character, Oom Schalk Lourens, lay down to rest in the shade of a withaak (white thorn) tree while supposedly looking for lost cattle, he imagined the tip of his boot was a hill called Abjaterskop. Before long a leopard appeared on the hill and started sniffing his feet. Its breath swept over his face in hot gasps as he lay paralysed with fear. Then the leopard turned and lay down next to him half curled up like a dog. Bosman’s deceptively simple satire brings alive the scenes and characters of the hardcore bushveld and mampoer country of the Groot Marico. Sadly, this story from Mafeking Road ends with a red splash on the leopard’s breast from a Mauser bullet. Where: North of Groot-Marico town, North West. Visit the Bosman literary festival each October at the Bosman Living Museum in Groot-Marico, a replica of the school where Bosman taught in the 1920s. Factfile: The long thorns are whitish or bluish in colour, giving rise to the dual names of withaak (Afrikaans for white thorn) and blue thorn/blouhaak. White spiky flowers appear from August to October.

9. The manhood tree The most noticeable thing about the sausage tree is its sausage-shaped fruit, which can grow as long as your arm and weigh up to 10kg. ‘In some parts of Africa, people use the fruits to enlarge their manhood,’ says safari guide Livingstone Sana. ‘With the instruction of a traditional healer, a boy climbs up the tree and chooses a young fruit. He cuts a round hole in it to mark his size then leaves the fruit to grow. When it gets to the right size he climbs the tree again and cuts the fruit down without touching it so that it doesn’t continue growing too big.’ Where: Just north of Little Makolololo Camp, Hwange National Park, Zimbabwe. Factfile: The flowers, which open at night, have an unpleasant smell that attracts bats to pollinate them. 10. The tree of life The marula is called the tree of life for its many uses from food to medicine. ‘It’s a photographer’s best friend in summer when leopards climb it for shade,’ says Londolozi ranger Alistair Smith. ‘The growth structure provides comfortable platforms for them to rest. Other animals almost guaranteed to be near a summer-fruiting marula are elephants. Once they’ve eaten the fruit off the ground they often shake the tree so more crashes down.’ He adds, ‘Male and female parts are on different trees so Shangaan people believe a pregnant woman who wants a daughter should drink tea made from the bark of a female tree; for a son, she drinks tea made from the male tree.’ Where: Londolozi in the Sabi Sands Game Reserve, Mpumalanga. Factfile: The green African moon moth breeds on the tree. The fruit is made into beer and the ever-popular Amarula liqueur. That the fruit makes elephants drunk is a myth. Note: This article first appeared in British Airways’ High Life magazine with wonderful watercolour illustrations by Hazel Buchan. Like it? Pin this image!

You may also enjoy Magical treehouse in the Baviaanskloof Voices of Botswana: the tree man of Ngoma Copyright © Roxanne Reid - No words or photographs on this site may be used without permission from roxannereid.co.za

[suitcasetales]

A Birthday Road Trip

Part Two: Walkin’ the Line

After nice leisurely showers and breakfast in the room Sunday, Elvis got his wish and we began our hike for the day. The trailhead, visible from our room, was right by one of the many LOVE signs throughout the state with our Virginia is for Lovers tourism motto. I venture to guess this is the most photographed spot in Lynchburg; unfortunately, when we were there, no one was around to take a photo of the three of us together. We loved this LOVE sign — the hikers footprints on the L, the bicycle wheels on the O, the kayak oars on the V and the climbing wall knobs covering the E. It was perfect for its location along the James River.

From the LOVE sign, looking back up at our hotel. On the left is the main building; on the right is the former tobacco warehouse where our room was on the top floor.

Our Sunday walk [I tend to say “walk” when I am on pavement, “hike” when I am on a natural trail] was also within the James River Heritage Trail System but this time we headed east. Continuing with the rails-to-trails conversion, we walked across an old railroad bridge to Percival’s Island in the James River. 

Below is a photo of a small sample of the number of “love locks” on the James River bridge overlook halfway across the bridge to Percival’s Island.

From what I had read about this island, I thought it would be like Richmond’s Belle Isle. Unlike yesterday’s admission that the Lynchburg parks are better than ours in Richmond, Percival’s has nothing on our Belle! Yes, they were both once home to industries, but the wide paved road, basically ran straight up the island so it was boring. There was also some pretty obnoxious noise pollution coming from a factory on the north bank — not exactly a peaceful Sunday morning. Nonetheless, we followed it until it ended, about three miles.

Once we were off Percival’s Island on the western end, we saw fewer and fewer people. Plus there were very stern warning signs about staying on the trail to avoid trespassing on private property. There was no development on either side — just a very rough looking camping area — but the land is bound to be of great value situated as it is along the River.

Other than a bench at the very end of the trail, a port-a-john about a half mile from the end, the only other feature was actually very interesting. It was an 2009 Eagle Scout Project called “Virginia Rocks!” There were 22 various hunks of rocks that are found in the Piedmont and Blue Ridge Mountains of Virginia. A brochure had a listing for each specimen, describing the type of rock, the Virginia county from where it came, the quarry or company which donated it and how the rock formed. We were so impressed that a Scout conceived this and presumably, had to solicit all the donations, find a home for his display and write all about it.

Returning to the City, we left a tired hound dog back in the hotel room and walked down the street for lunch at My Dog Duke’s Diner for their Sunday special of fried chicken....which turned out to be the dinner special so we were forced to order fried chicken and waffles instead. And guess what they were out of? If you guessed fried chicken, you are wrong. They were out of waffles! But they substituted French toast so we managed somehow.

From lunch, we walked back to the Craddock Terry and got the truck and snuck off to the Old City Cemetery. “Established in 1806, [it] is the oldest municipal cemetery in Virginia still in use today.”

I always find cemeteries interesting but visiting this one was more like visiting a historic village — there are five small museums on the grounds, including a medical museum; a large number of Confederate soldiers’ graves; antique funeral carts; separate “scatter” gardens for the ashes of humans and pets; a Potter’s field; and a bunch of plaques noting the contributions of Garden Club to many projects there. Our favorite one had to be the one commemorating the $60,000 raised for the Chapel and Columbarium project funded by the sale of a cookbook called “Food to Die For: A Book of Funeral Food, Tips and Tales.”

You can even get married at the chapel at the Cemetery!

The pet section:

The fact that this is known as a major tourism destination when visiting Lynchburg and not “the black cemetery” is very satisfying when I think about the poor condition of Evergreen cemetery in Richmond. I really liked how there was so much “life” at Old City; my guess, is all those souls buried there enjoy the company! Lastly, a special shout-out to the many volunteers seen picking up fallen branches and twigs after the two days of high winds.

Back at the hotel, we shared a Greek Salad and a spicy Thai chicken pizza from Waterstone Fire Roasted Pizza, located on the first floor of our building, while watching the Oscars. Good pizza and, as advertised, spicy!

Meanwhile, we had received both a phone call and a note under our door from the front desk stating that due to some water filtration system testing that the City was conducting, our building would have no water Monday morning between 6am & 9am. They offered to move us to a room in the main building but we really hated the prospect of moving us and Elvis so we decided to take our chances. As far as we know, we never were without water! Thank goodness we did not go to the trouble of moving!

Monday morning, we took our time packing and checked out around 11am. Although Elvis certainly earned our praises for adapting so easily to the hotel room, that was one happy dog when we walked out and opened the truck door! Little did he know that his vacation was not quite over.

For those of you who are not on Facebook with us, you don’t know that years ago we purchased a Lifetime Pass to all Virginia State Parks which we have used almost exclusively at Pocahontas State Park. Our goal for 2018 is to try to visit a different State Park each month. We counted Pocahontas as our January park and last month we went to Powhatan State Park.

On the way home, we visited Holliday Lake State Park, back in Appomattox. The lake was formed when Holliday Creek was damned in 1938 and it has been a State Park since 1972. (The Holliday family farm lies at the bottom of the lake, thus the reason for Holliday over Holiday.) Another beautiful day to be outside, we hiked the 6.3-mile Lakeshore Trail, which encircled not only the lake but also a 4-H Camp with a their own access to the Lake.

Near the beginning, an older woman was heading back to the parking lot and when we were stepping across a newly fallen tree, she excitedly said “there are trout lilies everywhere.” Janet had not heard her and then I started second guessing what she said because neither of us was familiar with a trout lily. Eventually though, we spotted a dainty small yellow flower and with absolutely no other wildflower in bloom, we knew we had found it. What a great gift this lone hiker had given us today!

This shows the size of this flower. The name comes from the speckled leaves looking like a trout.

The Lakeshore Trail did not always hug the lakeshore and definitely had some up and down bits so it was a very good workout. 

We enjoyed our visit and would recommend it. There was a nice beach area there, too, so would be good for a visit with small children. There is also a one-mile aquatic “trail” for kayakers or SUP boarders.

Thanks to Janet and Elvis for a wonderful birthday weekend away! Taking Friday and Monday off sure made it a relaxing weekend. We had sunshine all three days and sure, it would have been nice had it been a little warmer but hey, it is still Winter! We would also recommend Lynchburg and the the Craddock Terry Hotel. There is enough to do in the old historic downtown that once you are parked, it is very walkable.....whether you want to walk a few blocks or a few miles! And even though we both had to work upon getting back to Richmond, it will at least be a short week and when we come home, there will be a cute hound dog waiting for us and believe it or not, leftover mint chocolate birthday cake!