They’ve already torn up and knocked down everything else. They’re coming for you next, old friend.
***
I’m participating in the A to Z Challenge for the month of April. The idea is to post every day, except Sundays, and end up with one post for each letter of the alphabet. It’s a good challenge to help me to blog every day.
For this week Cee’s Black & White Challenge, the theme is sepia tones only.
Here’s another shot of the abandoned barn I saw last summer.
Here’s my entry for Cee’s Fun Photo Challenge: Things That Are Rough. Some textured bark on a pine tree.
What was once an inviting, fluffy mountain of snow is now a dirty pile of chopped ice. It melts a little each day but freezes again at night. Try to play on this and you’ll slip, the rough chunks of ice scratching your hand as you brace your fall.
I featured this photo of the catci in a recent post about a trip to a rose garden last summer. Thanks to my friend Maria F., I now know their name: Opuntia humifusa. Thanks, Maria!
Here’s a very happy bee on a pointy thistle.
This is rough on an emotional level. When I read the note that was scratched into the painted-over glass windows on a padlocked door to an abandoned house, I couldn’t help but wonder about the circumstances. More photos and speculation in this post from several months ago.
If you can hold out for a few cold months, they will come back for you. Stay strong.
Driving by, I saw the obviously intriguing building on the corner. An old toy store, called Stuffed Toy International, abandoned for some time.
A wholesale outlet that was open to the public.
It looks like an apartment or house was attached.
No one lives there now.
Looking closer, I could make out some writing on the door. A note, scratched into the paint that covered the windows, describes a sad scene indeed. A parent or caregiver reaches out to two “kids” looking for the love that he or she is missing.
The door was shut and the words were backward. I flipped the image for better readability.
This is what I can make out of the note, starting from the top left window.
Why can’t I get the same love and concern that I have always felt for you kids?
[I’m tired?] of loving and caring for two kids who can’t return my feelings.
I want to see […?]
What’s your hang up? Teresa I love you.
[Kenny you?] really let me down. It’s time to prove [you care?]
I [hate/have?] to leave you
Why is it scratched into the paint? Didn’t the author have a pen and paper? This makes things seem that much more desperate. Or maybe it was a spur of the moment decision. There were two bars within walking distance, which made me think that maybe the writer had knocked back a few before telling those kids what was on his or her mind.
Why were the windows painted over? And why is the note backward when the door is closed? Was the writer inside the house while writing the note, or perhaps the door was open?
And why is the note still there?
I’m getting hung up on these details, I think, to distract myself from the sadness I feel when I imagine a mother writing this to her (in her mind) ungrateful children. I think every parent feels unappreciated at times, taken for granted, but to feel so bad as to write a note like this? Wow.
This person seems to have hit a breaking point. Did the message get through? Did they reconcile?
This also got me wondering would I ever feel so pushed as to leave a note like this for my kids? What kind of relationship will we have when they get older? I always hope it’s going to be a good one. How do I prevent a situation arising where I feel I need to scratch a note to my kids in the paint that covers the windows of the door to the house?
I think this touches on my deepest, darkest parenting fear and mantra, which is: try not to fuck this up. I hope to have a close relationship with my kids as we get older. I’m afraid of losing them somehow along the way, of them becoming the kind of people who say, “I’m not really close with my family.” Who don’t call or come home for holidays. Who don’t want to share their lives with me.
Everyone makes mistakes, and we hope that those mistakes can be fixed. It takes work, and all parties have to be willing to do the hard work of communication and forgiveness.
But sometimes mistakes and bad feelings pile up, time goes by, and one day there’s a note on the door.
Who put a pizza oven in the attic?
Secrets, secrets
in the old barn.
No more horses inside.
The flies keep buzzing, buzzing
in and out.
Now none are left to ride.
I saw this run-down building on a New England river in early spring. The door to nowhere caught my eye. I also have a thing for old, weathered wood.
Check out my second post, Another Door to Nowhere
This week’s theme is Door.
Cynthia M Voss 