@cadespark taking in the #keeneland sights


My dad called to let me know Great Uncle Wallace died today. When I was a kid and we visited my grandparents in their tiny town in Tennessee, he and my Great Aunt Mary always came to visit us. He wore overalls every single time I ever saw him, and he always had a 2 dollar bill for me and one for my brother. I used to try and save them as the special thing they were, but usually my brother and I would spend them on gum or a Coke or stickers or some other nonsense. That’s probably what he wanted, but I always felt a little guilty anyway. He survived a German POW camp in WWII. He said he watched many of his fellow soldiers die because they weren’t used to working so hard, but that he’d really never known anything different, so just kept getting by. Not that it was easy - it was awful. But he could do it when so many others just couldn’t. A long time after my Great Aunt Mary died, he started “visiting” with the eligible ladies in town. My dad said he never really settled on one because each lady offered something a little different; good pie here, a laugh over there; a nice hand hold down the road.

He lived a full life and our family was lucky to have him as a beloved member. I wish him peace on this next leg of his journey.

My sister beat me to the post I was going to write about this great man. Uncle Wallace said he always felt sorry for all the city boys in the POW camp, because they didn’t know how to work, how to survive. He had nine brothers and sisters, who he helped to raise. His wife, my Aunt Mary, died in his arms. If he had ever met you, he would have asked you what your birth date was. And he would have remembered it if ever he saw you again. 

He lived as full a life as anyone could hope to. Wishing him peace.

Pumpkins for your Friday!

(Source: simply-divine-creation)

Hello, lover.

(Source: the-cooooolest)

Enemy encampment at dawn. (AKA History Days at Ashland) #sharethelex

Some belated birthday hawtness for PLLTT.

(Source: nya-kin)

Wellington in bloom.


When you are 13 years old,
the heat will be turned up too high
and the stars will not be in your favor.
You will hide behind a bookcase
with your family and everything left behind.
You will pour an ocean into a diary.
When they find you, you will be nothing
but a spark above a burning bush,
still, tell them
Despite everything, I really believe people are good at heart.

When you are 14,
a voice will call you to greatness.
When the doubters call you crazy, do not listen.
They don’t know the sound
of their own God’s whisper. Use your armor,
use your sword, use your two good hands.
Do not let their doubting
drown out the sound of your own heartbeat.
You are the Maid of Untamed Patriotism.
Born to lead armies into victory and unite a nation
like a broken heart.

When you are 15, you will be punished
for learning too proudly. A man
will climb onto your school bus and insist
your sisters name you enemy.
When you do not hide,
he will point his gun at your temple
and fire three times. Three years later,
in an ocean of words, with no apologies,
you will stand before the leaders of the world
and tell them your country is burning.

When you are 16 years old,
you will invent science fiction.
The story of a man named Frankenstein
and his creation. Soon after you will learn
that little girls with big ideas are more terrifying
than monsters, but don’t worry.
You will be remembered long after
they have put down their torches.

When you are 17 years old,
you will strike out Babe Ruth and Lou Gehrig
one right after the other.
Men will be afraid of the lightening
in your fingertips. A few days later
you will be fired from the major leagues
because “Girls are too delicate to play baseball”

You will turn 18 with a baby on your back
leading Lewis and Clark
across North America.

You will turn 18 
and become queen of the Nile.

You will turn 18 
and bring justice to journalism.

You are now 18, standing on the precipice,
trembling before your own greatness.

This is your call to leap.

There will always being those
who say you are too young and delicate
to make anything happen for yourself.
They don’t see the part of you that smolders.
Don’t let their doubting drown out the sound
of your own heartbeat.

You are the first drop of a hurricane.
Your bravery builds beyond you. You are needed
by all the little girls still living in secret,
writing oceans made of monsters and
throwing like lightening.

You don’t need to grow up to find greatness.
You are stronger than the world has ever believed you to be.
The world laid out before you to set on fire.
All you have to do
is burn.

"Don’t get too high and mighty, ladies. Don’t step out of line. Don’t do anything to upset or disappoint men who feel entitled to your time, bodies, affection or attention. Your bared body can always be used as a weapon against you. You bared body can always be used to shame and humiliate you. Your bared body is at once desired and loathed."

All the feels