Halloween Stories Your Mother Shouldn't Tell You

But she did. I give credit to the unknown author and apologize for any mistakes.

Little orphan Annie came to our house to stay,
To wash the cups and saucers and brush the crumbs away,
And shoo the chickens off the porch and dust the hearth and sweep
And make the fire and bake the bread to earn her board and keep.

And all us other children, when the supper things were done
Used to sit around the fire and have the mostest fun
Listening to the witch tales that Annie told about
And the goblins will get you, if you don’t watch out.

There was a little boy who wouldn’t say his prayers
And when he went to bed at night, a waaaay upstairs,
His momma heard him holler, his daddy heard him bawl
But when they turned the covers down, he wasn’t there at all.

They seeked him in the rafter room, the cubby hole and press
Even up the chimney flue and everywhere I guess
But all they ever found was his pants around about
And the goblins will get you if you don’t watch out

There was a little girl who always mocked and grinned
Who made fun of everyone, even blood and kin
One day there was company and old folks were there
She mocked them and she shocked them and she said she didn’t care

But when she turned around to run away and hide
There were two big black things standing by her side
They snatched her through the ceiling fore she knew what was about
And the goblins will get you, if you don’t watch out

Little orphan Annie says when the day is through
And the lamp wick flutters and the wind goes wooooooo
And the crickets are quiet and the moon is gray
And the lighting bugs are all squinched away

You better mind your parents and your teachers fond and dear
And cherish those that love you and dry the little orphan’s tear
And help the poor and needy as they cluster round about
Or the goblins will get you, if you don’t watch out.

Pumpkin, Scarecrow & Witch, Oh My

I know, I know, the first line of this little ditty has been used a million times before but I’m using it anyhow.

It’s a dark stormy night
In this spooky old town
The thunder and lightening
Keep crashing down
Winds are a howling
Streetlamps go out
And there's too many monsters
Around and about.

So run to your homes,
Lock doors and windows up tight
Because goblins and ghosts
Abound on this night.
There are witches and ghouls
Hiding here, lurking there
But the scariest spooks
Are up in the air

What???…. in the air????



Yep, one of those uglies is me.

The Changing of The Guard...en tools

Say goodnight pruners, trowels, claws, diggers, and hose nozzles. You are now finished for the year and can hide in the shed (and you’re very good at that, aren’t you?) until spring comes around once again.

I’ll have to say none of you did a very good job the few times you actually decided to go to work but at least you managed to keep from getting lost in the bushes this year as so many have done before. So get yourselves cleaned up and oiled and into the bucket with you.



And as for you, it's your turn now.


For the next few weeks you will be working almost daily trying to keep up with the zillion leaves that blow into your yard. It’s not my fault that your yard is in the wrong place and that the wind whips all the leaves from yours, and all of your neighbors trees, smack up against the back of the house. And those that are not by the house are piled high against the back fence.

I hope your work habits have improved since last year because you were a totally lazy good-for-nothing back then. And if you don’t do your job this fall, I can promise you that you will be working your butt off raking up those leaves in the spring.

HEY, WHAT ARE YOU DOING OUT HERE??
GET BACK IN THAT SHED!!


With any luck I won’t have to be dealing with your work ethics for a while yet.
Stupid snow shovel.

Home Sweet Home

We all have our own idea of what home sweet home is.

Some like a little witchy log house with a pointy roof complete with it’s own resident mouse standing in the doorway to welcome them home. It also comes with its own canoe in case of flooding and a hatchet for when it needs to replace the parts that get eaten by termites. I have no idea why that armadillo is hanging around the front steps. I kinda like this house even with the mouse.


Others like a cold damp house. The ones who live here are so vain they even had statues of themselves attached to their house so everyone could admire their good looks and handsome bodies. I think I know some people like that.

Still others prefer a double decker with balconies and railings and with a warm cozy fireplace inside. This house also includes it’s own spiders to keep the insects away. Lots and lots of spiders. I think the other residents moved out of this house. I know I would.

And then of course there are those who like to live dangerously. They build their house in the lofty branches of the highest tree, held together by the thinnest of weaves, rocking back and forth in even the faintest breezes. It makes for an exciting night when the wind is howling and the occupants are holding on for dear life. These houses also need a lot of remodeling and renovations all year long. Sometimes complete walls have to be rebuilt. This is a never-ending job for the ones who choose this type of house. Not for me, thank you very much!!

Ribbit

I’m afraid it’s that time of year. Time to bring the froggies in that have been hiding in the garden all summer and put them on the kitchen shelf before the frost nips at their little webbed toes.

First is Nan’s frog. I stole him from her garden when Betty and I went to visit her one year. I think he looks better in mine and he must like it here since he never tried to leave.


Next we have “The Thinker”. I never knew what he was thinking about, but it looks pretty serious.


Fatty here was pretty skinny when I first got him, but certainly made up for it in no time. I must have had a lot more slugs in my garden than I was aware of.

Three sisters. I’m the cute one. Don’t be kissing these frogs because I don’t know what we would turn into, although I’m quite sure it won’t be princesses.


Whoa, not you big fella. Sorry but you have to stay outside. There’s no room on the shelf for you.

Dancing The Bunny Hop

Glancing out the window yesterday, I noticed a rabbit backed all the way up to the chain link fence that separates my yard from my neighbors. And he was dancing. All four feet jumping up and down to the beat of some song only he could hear, not unlike the way I dance around the house when I’m alone. Oh, c’mon, I know you do that too!!

It took a second or two for my brain to tell me that rabbits probably don’t dance very much, duh, and I realized that his little butt was actually stuck under the fence where he tried to crawl through and that there was a large black and white cat on the other side. And that cat was batting at his fluffy white tail with it’s two front paws. As I was getting set to run out there to try to help the poor little fella, he danced a little harder, squeezed the rest of his body through and off he went, none the worse for wear.

The cat just sat there and stared at him as he hopped away, stared at me as if to say “I was only playing”, then carefully washed his paws before he slowly sauntered back through the bushes and went back home.

For not dancing very often, that rabbit had some pretty good moves. I’m going to have to add some of those to my routine.

History Lesson #1 Via Lake View Cemetery

The other day Betty and I decided to go on a little excursion to the cemetery. Not to purchase or plan anything mind you, but just to look at some of the notable's monuments and headstones.

And Cleveland’s Lake View Cemetery has a whole slew of them. From humungous mausoleums and monuments down to the smallest of tombstones and grave markers. From huge names like Garfield (I’m talking about the President here not the cat) and Rockefeller to the unknown (to me anyway) names like Raymond Chapman.

Chapman was a Cleveland Indians shortstop from 1912-1920. While playing the New York Yankees in New York on August 16, 1920, Chapman was hit in the head with a ball thrown by pitcher, Carl Mays, and died 12 hours later. Chapman is the only major league baseball player to die due to an injury during a game. Dedicating the season in memory of "Chappie", the Indians won the league and world championship for the first time. I know that players have had to quit the game because of injuries but I never knew of one that was fatal. See what you can learn?

So anyway, after walking around a bit, taking a few photos, and marveling at the fact that some people will spend huge amounts of money for something they’re just going to lie around and decay in over the next hundred years, or less if an asteroid does indeed plop down on us and we’re all obliterated, I decided to post about a man that is known by everyone. Well, maybe not everyone, but a whole lot of people.

Eliot Ness
Anyone out there who doesn’t know of Eliot Ness? For those of you who don’t, he was the law enforcement officer who brought down Al Capone. Anyone out there who doesn’t know who Al Capone was? Watch some old movies.

Anyhow after being responsible for sending the biggest mob boss in the country to jail on income tax evasion, (thought to have been responsible for a few dozen murders, but could only get him on tax evasion) Ness came to Cleveland and became their safety director in 1935, cleaning up a very corrupt police department, (most big cities had that problem in the thirties), modernizing the police department by developing two-way communications between police cars and their police stations, and developing the Emergency Medical System. Ness also took Cleveland's worst traffic fatality record in the nation and turned it around to twice win the National Safety Council's award for reduction of traffic deaths. But problems were looming on the horizon. Along came the infamous Kingsbury Run Murders, “The Torso Murders” is what one newspaper called them, because… well… the torsos were cut up and there were…um… no heads.

This was the American equivalent of the gruesome crime spree of Jack the Ripper. Like the Ripper case, the murders left a number of mutilated victims behind and they remain unsolved to this day. It was a series of killings that started in 1935 and lasted until 1938 and had a total of about 12 victims, (they weren’t sure of the exact count because….well you know). Obviously it terrified the city and the ensuing newspaper coverage eventually destroyed the career of the once untouchable Ness. (Get it? Thinking Robert Stack? Kevin Costner? No? geeze, what’s it gonna take?)
Later, Ness said he believed that he knew who the killer was and this suspect continued to taunt Ness for years after the killings had stopped, but sadly, the Kingsbury Run murders really began the downturn of his earlier illustrious career.

He never really got over the taint that the murders left on his reputation and the fact they were never solved. The last decade of his life was full of poverty and frequent disappointment and he passed away in 1957 at the age of only 54. Ironically, considering his destruction of the Prohibition bootlegging gangs, Ness became a heavy drinker and suffered from poor health. He resigned from the position of Cleveland’s public safety director in 1941, after a scandal involving a hit-and-run accident, and in 1947 was badly defeated in a run for the Cleveland mayor’s office.

In 1953, after five years of poverty and obscurity, he became involved with a papermaking company and through a friend at the company, he had a chance meeting with a journalist named Oscar Fraley. The two men would later collaborate on a book entitled The Untouchables. It came out in 1957 and was an immense success, becoming a bestseller and inspiring two television series and a popular film. Tragically, Ness would never learn of this success as he died of a heart attack on May 16, 1957, six months before The Untouchables was published. His ashes were scattered in one of the many small ponds in the cemetery, and that reminds me of one of the old mob sayings “he sleeps with the fishes”. A bit ironic wouldn’t you say?



A little more than you really wanted to know about Eliot Ness? Just wait until the next history lesson.