![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
thedarksiren2I kidnapped a ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
renwick and stole him away to far-off lands, beyond Boston Hell and on to Peninsula where it seemed too dark to voyage across emerald fields without worry of law enforcement, but the gates were open, so it seemed like a silent welcome.
On the way across the meadow, my left boot died. The smallish heel (as compared to the massive platform shoes I generally wear) bent backwards...ha! A contortion heel! YAY! Umm, well, no...it sucked. They were my last pair of combat boots, and they died there in the fields.
But not entirely. I continued on, into the woods and over rocky terrain withrenwick and I sharing stories of lives past, and he mocked me when I warned him of the rocky terrain, and I became flushed, though he wouldn't notice in the dark.
I had never been to the Kendall Ledges after dark. My plan was to show him the sunset-like-no-other in OH, but it had passed. Instead we had a view of the Cuyahoga Valley shimmering in far-off lights and stars...it was awesome.
In some cultures, it is believed a cat will steal the baby's breath while it sleeps.
We walked back to the Fairuza car, and we kept talking like I haven't talked in a long time with anyone. It was nice to have a friend for the experience, considering the number of times I have gone this way alone.
Further south to Hudson OH, to my first sacred find when I moved up here, O'Brian's Cemetery. Many of the founders of the area (Hudson & Stow OH) are buried there, and in the past I have seen vandals create havoc in the wood beyond the keeper's house, beyond the 1/4 mile path...although, one might argue if the vandals were, in fact, living creatures.
Walking, my boot kept contorting and I felt awkward, my company a fashion guru - what sort of impression I might be making?!!! I got over myself though, and found the whole situation wonderfully amusing, and enjoyed the conversation even more once I remembered who I was, and that I am comfy as me.
Not too long ago, I tried to takewraptboy and bindrune to O'Brian's, but there was a huge ditch dug out on the path, so we decided it to be a sign of unwelcome, and went home. Last night, there was a bridge of sorts, and illumination just beyond, literally.
I found myself in awe of the newly restored cemetery. The entrance had a small wooden monk holding flowers, and a trash receptacle. Then there was the monument, carved with all the names of those buried and their dates of birth, death, or "ND." All the headstones were pretty much where they were supposed to be again, and there was even a tree swing. The entire space was lit with flood lights, which in all their strangeness and misplacement, I was happy to have on. I like being able to see who I am talking to, especially when the conversation is so great.
On the drive back from Hudson, RT 8 was its usual reminder of large wrecked automobiles, and out of nowhere came a sign that caughtrenwick's attention: "Moonbeam's Moonbergers." There was neon all about, and the sign had a giant crescent moon eating a large burger.
He became all giddy and insistent that we go back and get "moonbergers," and at first I really didn't know how serious he was. But he said he was hungry, so I found the nearest place to turn around and we parked beneath the neon, coming upon the facts: the place was called, "Moonbeam McSwine's" - seriously! We thought for certain it was a podunk joint, and there was an eraser board advertising karaoke, which is just a sign of sort as to what one might be getting into. But dammit!renwick was intent on his moonberger, so we walked through the doors.
Inside there was a bar, and a few people standing about it. There was a restaurant to the right, where the karaoke and about a dozen or so people about, including several children between three and ten. The hostess/ waitress, who reminded me of Alice (only older) from the '80's show with the same title, asked us what we wanted to drink and to seat ourselves, giving us truly the most fabulous menus ever to exist!
There was this cut-out of Ms. Moonbeam McSwine on the wall, all laid-out with her piglet; she is the star of the place, a cartoon-trampy looking gal, dark haired with a cigarette in her mouth, always. The menu states something along the lines of, "Moonbeam'll stick her ribs against anything!" We were in hysterics!
The place was dimly lit, and after a while it felt very much like a Twin Peaks moment...I decided to sing some karaoke, almost tripping on my boots along the way. I went up and gave the KJ my slip, then decided to ask this old guy, who would turn out to be the owner, if he had duct tape so I could fix my boot temporarily; he told me to give it to him, and took it in the back to put some liquid cement on it!
The rest of the night just rocked. I sang a few songs, and someone took my picture (!) and Brian fixed my shoe, and little girls played peek-a-boo with me from their booths.
When we were leaving, Brian and his hostess asked to us to come back, and bring good singers with us again.
The drive back to Cleveland was more words exchanged, andrenwick endured the Lestat demo. When we got to his house, he shared strange songs comprised of dry ice and Eucharine(sp?) strings, with a dash of skeletonking for flavor.
All in all, it was one of the best times I've had in forever.
renwick and stole him away to far-off lands, beyond Boston Hell and on to Peninsula where it seemed too dark to voyage across emerald fields without worry of law enforcement, but the gates were open, so it seemed like a silent welcome.On the way across the meadow, my left boot died. The smallish heel (as compared to the massive platform shoes I generally wear) bent backwards...ha! A contortion heel! YAY! Umm, well, no...it sucked. They were my last pair of combat boots, and they died there in the fields.
But not entirely. I continued on, into the woods and over rocky terrain with
renwick and I sharing stories of lives past, and he mocked me when I warned him of the rocky terrain, and I became flushed, though he wouldn't notice in the dark.I had never been to the Kendall Ledges after dark. My plan was to show him the sunset-like-no-other in OH, but it had passed. Instead we had a view of the Cuyahoga Valley shimmering in far-off lights and stars...it was awesome.
In some cultures, it is believed a cat will steal the baby's breath while it sleeps.
We walked back to the Fairuza car, and we kept talking like I haven't talked in a long time with anyone. It was nice to have a friend for the experience, considering the number of times I have gone this way alone.
Further south to Hudson OH, to my first sacred find when I moved up here, O'Brian's Cemetery. Many of the founders of the area (Hudson & Stow OH) are buried there, and in the past I have seen vandals create havoc in the wood beyond the keeper's house, beyond the 1/4 mile path...although, one might argue if the vandals were, in fact, living creatures.
Walking, my boot kept contorting and I felt awkward, my company a fashion guru - what sort of impression I might be making?!!! I got over myself though, and found the whole situation wonderfully amusing, and enjoyed the conversation even more once I remembered who I was, and that I am comfy as me.
Not too long ago, I tried to take
wraptboy and bindrune to O'Brian's, but there was a huge ditch dug out on the path, so we decided it to be a sign of unwelcome, and went home. Last night, there was a bridge of sorts, and illumination just beyond, literally.I found myself in awe of the newly restored cemetery. The entrance had a small wooden monk holding flowers, and a trash receptacle. Then there was the monument, carved with all the names of those buried and their dates of birth, death, or "ND." All the headstones were pretty much where they were supposed to be again, and there was even a tree swing. The entire space was lit with flood lights, which in all their strangeness and misplacement, I was happy to have on. I like being able to see who I am talking to, especially when the conversation is so great.
On the drive back from Hudson, RT 8 was its usual reminder of large wrecked automobiles, and out of nowhere came a sign that caught
renwick's attention: "Moonbeam's Moonbergers." There was neon all about, and the sign had a giant crescent moon eating a large burger.He became all giddy and insistent that we go back and get "moonbergers," and at first I really didn't know how serious he was. But he said he was hungry, so I found the nearest place to turn around and we parked beneath the neon, coming upon the facts: the place was called, "Moonbeam McSwine's" - seriously! We thought for certain it was a podunk joint, and there was an eraser board advertising karaoke, which is just a sign of sort as to what one might be getting into. But dammit!
renwick was intent on his moonberger, so we walked through the doors.Inside there was a bar, and a few people standing about it. There was a restaurant to the right, where the karaoke and about a dozen or so people about, including several children between three and ten. The hostess/ waitress, who reminded me of Alice (only older) from the '80's show with the same title, asked us what we wanted to drink and to seat ourselves, giving us truly the most fabulous menus ever to exist!
There was this cut-out of Ms. Moonbeam McSwine on the wall, all laid-out with her piglet; she is the star of the place, a cartoon-trampy looking gal, dark haired with a cigarette in her mouth, always. The menu states something along the lines of, "Moonbeam'll stick her ribs against anything!" We were in hysterics!
The place was dimly lit, and after a while it felt very much like a Twin Peaks moment...I decided to sing some karaoke, almost tripping on my boots along the way. I went up and gave the KJ my slip, then decided to ask this old guy, who would turn out to be the owner, if he had duct tape so I could fix my boot temporarily; he told me to give it to him, and took it in the back to put some liquid cement on it!
The rest of the night just rocked. I sang a few songs, and someone took my picture (!) and Brian fixed my shoe, and little girls played peek-a-boo with me from their booths.
When we were leaving, Brian and his hostess asked to us to come back, and bring good singers with us again.
The drive back to Cleveland was more words exchanged, and
renwick endured the Lestat demo. When we got to his house, he shared strange songs comprised of dry ice and Eucharine(sp?) strings, with a dash of skeletonking for flavor.All in all, it was one of the best times I've had in forever.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2002-10-14 01:20 am (UTC)no subject
~;P
Thanx, sweetie.
Re:
Date: 2002-10-14 08:28 am (UTC)You're welcome.
no subject
Date: 2002-10-14 04:07 pm (UTC)Ooo ... scribbles in notepad ... I'll have to investigate that area, sounds neat ...
well hello there!
Take 271 south (east?), and get off at Rt. 8 south, heading toward Boston Heights. Get off at the Hudson 303 exit, and go straight through the light. You will go maybe two-three miles, and you'll see the brown signs for Virginia Kendall on the right, turning right onto the street just after. The park entrance will be about a mile down on your right. Go all the up the drive, turn left into lot. Park in far leftish corner, and walk into field, staying to the left. You will come to an entrance to the woods there, follow it till you see the clearing and overlook.
Simply gorgeous.
~8)
no subject
Date: 2002-10-14 05:46 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2002-10-15 10:53 am (UTC)