Category Archives: Town of Old Orchard

RV Fultiming "Winter Camping" Questions

I’m not new to “winter camping” or 24/7 year round boondocking. I live in an area that gets 5 to 7 months of snow (more on a “cold” year), and usually spends 2 of those months at temps of -20F to -48F before wind chill factors (and living on the coast, we get a lot of high winds all year long). I lived fulltime in a tent since 2006 (no electricity, no running water, etc), during that time we had 3 blizzards (one which buried my tent under 9 feet of snow), 2 ice storms, and 5 hurricanes. So, extreme winter camping is a lifestyle for me. I love the cold and snow, I avoid the heat and hot climates.

I’m upgrading. I’m moving out of the tent and into a motorhome. I have not bought it yet, but the one I’m planning to buy is a 1988 Class A 31′ Georgie Boy TravelMaster. (Which has already been customized for fulltime boondocking, thus why I’m trying for this one first.) If they sell it before I come up with the cash to pay for it, I’ve got a few “back-up RVs” on my list, all are 1980s Class As. (After spending 2 years going in and out of every new and used RV, MH, TT, 5Th in the state I came to the conclusion I prefer the Class As of the ’80s.)

So, here’s the thing. I’ve never lived in a motorhome before. This is going to be a totally new thing for me (as well as being the LARGEST living space I’ve had in 36 years – I lived in a 16′x9′ beach cabin before the tent.). And me, living in the types of places I like to live I’m going to have to make sure it gets winterized for some heavy duty super cold regions. (Once in the motorhome I plan to spend a lot of time boondocking between Maine, Quebec, Yukon, Alaska, Colorado, etc, exploring the coldest iciest parts of North America – it’ll likely never see a warm day again once I own it!).

So my question is: what the heck do I need to do to my motorhome to winterize it? Does anyone have any advice on “RV Boondocking” in extreme cold regions

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This post was written by Wendy C Allen aka EelKat, is copyrighted by The Twighlight Manor Press and was posted on Houseless Living @ http://houselessliving.blogspot.com and reposted at EK’s Star Log @ http://eelkat.wordpress.com and parts of it may also be seen on http://www.squidoo.com/EelKat and http://laughinggnomehollow.proboards.com  If you are reading this from a different location than those listed above, please contact me Wendy C. Allen aka EelKat @ http://laughinggnomehollow.proboards.com/index.cgi?action=viewprofile and let me know where it is you found this post. Plagiarism is illegal and I DO actively pursue offenders. Unless copying a Blog Meme, you do not have permission to copy anything appearing on this blog, including words, art, or photos. This will be your only warning. Thank you and have a glorious day! ~ EelKat

Answers To Your FullTime RV Living Questions: Where is your legal residence? If you travel fulltime, where do you renew your drivers license and what state to you file taxes in? Do you still need to own property somewhere to be a resident?

Where is your legal residence? If you travel fulltime, where do you renew your drivers license and what state to you file taxes in? Do you still need to own property somewhere to be a resident?

You’ve got several questions rolled in one here, let’s answer each separately, okay?

Where is your legal residence? 

Maine.

Why? Easy. I like Maine. I was born in Maine, raised in Maine, no plans to ever leave Maine. When I do travel (which is rare) I travel with-in Maine, sometimes New Hampshire, a few times Vermont, but mostly just Maine. I’ve been in every town in Maine at one time or another, but I stick to the coast pretty much 24/7, I’m on the beach almost every day, jogging hip deep in the waves 3 hours a day, and for the most part I stay in one place months at a time.

I didn’t become a full-timer to travel. I initially did not become a fulltimer by choice. The lifestyle was thrown on me when a flood took everything I owned, including my house. (Remember what I said about me liking to live on the coast, well, my front door was practically in the ocean.) I was homeless for 5 years, spent that time with the goal of getting back into a house. But than one day that goal just melted away.

I lost everything to a flood. Was quite happy living in a house, had no plans to stop doing so, (well, happy enough, I didn’t really like the tiny 700 square foot house, it was the location I loved) but  than one day there was no house. Lots of water. Lots of rubble. Lots of mud. But no house. I lived in a “home made tent” (a 8×6 tarp thrown over a woodpile) for the next few years. Eventually got a car and lived in that instead, while still also living under the tarp-tent-thing. The whole 5 years I was working towards getting back in a house. Than, after 5 years of “homelessness”, I moved into an apartment, and HATED being indoors. OMG! I had spent those 5 years with one goal: to get back inside a house, only to reach that goal and realize, I really, really, really HATED living indoors! So it was back to the land (which I still owned, but still had no house on it, where the tent-thing still stands to this very day) to try to figure out what to do next.

In my 5 years of “homelessness” I had learned to love living without a house. I had boondocked the whole time: no electricity, no running water, no toilet, pretty much it was like a 5 year camp out – a cold blizzards filled camp out, but a camp out none the less. I learned to love cooking over a campfire. I learned to get up with the sun and sleep under the stars. I got used to my radio station being the ocean waves and the screaming seagulls and the singing songbirds. I had even learned to love living without electricity, without running water, and without a toilet! I couldn’t believe it – I got back into a house and I could not adjust to HAVING these things! All I wanted to do was escape the indoors and rush back outside to be out in nature.  I even got use to dealing with thunderstorms, hurricanes, and blizzards with only a 8×6 tarp for protection! Weird, I know, but that’s what happened. The whole time I was wanting to get back in a house, but I got so used to living off the land, that when I did get back in a house, I couldn’t fathom going back to house living which now feels like a confining prison to me. I had never lived a normal life, and my house lost to a flood, was a 700 square foot 1 bedroom summer cabin, which I had rarely spent much time in to begin with seeing how I was always too busy being outdoors. I basically only slept in the thing. I think I only really lived in a house to begin with, because I felt it was the thing “normal” people did and I was “supposed” to do it. Going into an apartment, showed me just how much I REALLY detested being indoors.

Logic told me I needed a house of some sort, at least to have a dry/warm place to sleep during Maine’s endless rain and snow seasons. And than it hit me: what I needed was a motorhome! It allows me to have a warm dry place during rain and snow and still have the option to live at one with nature. The other advantage of a motorhome is, when the next hurricane, nor`easter, blizzard, or thunderstorm comes ripping up the coast (and one or the other arrives every month of the year) it’s a simple matter of starting the engine and driving my home inland to sit out the storm, than drive back to the ocean once the storm passes. No more worries of floods taking out the house! LOL!

And so I became a fulltimer/boondocker, with no goal of ever traveling at all. Now granted my fulltiming is not the norm, most fulltimers, got their motorhome with a goal of traveling, me, I’m content to stay in one spot most of the time, I don’t move around to much. I don’t particularly NEED a house, it’s just me and my cats, and there’s plenty of room for us in a motorhome. A House has all sorts of expenses, that a motorhome doesn’t have. And with a motorhome, I don’t have to stay just on one beach all the time, I can go from one beach to the next and take my “house” with me. Living in a motorhome just plain made more sense to me, than living in a house.

Thus my “Domicile” is as it always was: Maine, because I love Maine, I love Maine beaches, I love Maine coastlines, I love Maine forests. I just plain love Maine. With a house only one tiny lot in Maine could be my home, now with a motorhome, the ENTIRE STATE of Maine is my home. I still have the land where the house used to be and I’m parked there much of the time. My mail comes there, I vote in that town, I attend that’s towns counsel meetings, yadda, yadda, yadda. It’s where I grew up, it belonged to my parents, my grandparents, my great grand parents…there are no buildings on the land anymore, it’s basically an empty lot, turned into a parking space and garden. I have a garden here, roses, vegetables, fruit trees, it’s only about an 1/8 of an acre…So even when I’m elsewhere, that address remains my “home address” and very likly will remain so the rest of my life.

While reading lots of RV stuff in prep for my motorhome, I noted money (taxes, insurances, etc) to be a major deciding factor for most RVers when choosing a place of residency. I found this quite interesting, because money has never been a deciding factor for me in any of my decisions, RVing or otherwise. But I thought I’d comment on this myself, as it may be of interest to those deciding their own domicile.

Fact #1: Maine is in the Top 10 for being a state with the HIGHEST taxes in the nation.

Fact #2: Old Orchard Beach (my Domicile city) has the SECOND HIGHEST taxes in the state and is among the highest of any town in New England.

Fact #3: My father’s grandfather founded and settled this town over 200 years ago and for most of that time my family pretty much ran every business and government seat in the town.

Fact #4: I have Autism. I was removed from school at age 8. Did not talk for most of my life. Never had any education of job training. I can barely count, let alone to math, so talk of money is generally lost on me. You tell me what I own you and I can count enough to count out the cash I hand you. That’s pretty much my limit of money ability. I require adult supervision and have a difficult time with most things.

Fact #5: The flood that left me homeless, also left me alone. It didn’t just take the house – it took everything and every one, leaving death and destruction all around me. I was 29 years old and both alone and without adult supervision for the first time in my life. I have had to teach myself EVERYTHING since than. I was 34 when I got my GED, and 36 when I got my driver’s license. My next goal is learning how to get a job.

Fact #6: My current income is $2,000 PER YEAR, made from selling my art online via Zazzle.com. I pay my taxes, I register/insure/put-gas-in my vehicles (I also have a Volvo and a 1964 Dodge), I buy food for myself, I buy food for my 12 cats. I have no other expenses.

Conclusion: I rarely use money, I barely understand money, I go for months at a time without money and without the need to spend it either, I make enough to pay for what few expenses I have, and otherwise have no reason to think about money. Thus money is not a deciding factor in choosing my domicile. For me the deciding factor is – I am at home in this town: I know the people, I know the town counsel, I know the businesses, the town is so small I can walk from one end to the other in less than an hour, I can walk on the beach every day, I can hike in the forest every day, there are fewer than 8,000 residents, I am one of less than a 1,000 year round residents, in the winter it’s pretty much just me and the lobstermen.

In Short: this town is my own little Paradise. You can’t put a price tag on that. I chose my place of residence based on the fact that I like this town and for no other reason.

If you travel fulltime, where do you renew your drivers license and what state to you file taxes in? 

I am not the right person to be asking this question to.

First off, let me explain that there are two types of full-timers: Full-Time Travelers and Full-Time RVers.

Full-Time Travelers are on the road a lot. They rarely stay in one location more than 3 or 4 months, and most only stay at each stop for a week or less. They may or may not live in an RV. Some live in cars, some live in vans, some live in trailers, some live in motorhomes, some live in tiny pop-ups pulled by motorcycles, and I’ve meet a few who live out of their backpack while crossing the country on bikes. Some live in their cars during the day and sleep at motels or in tents during the night. They call no place their home and move from one place to the next, year after year.

Full-Time RVers may or may not be Full-Time Travelers. They live in a trailer or a motorhome full time. They may be “Snowbirds” living 6 months in the north and 6 months in the south always parking in the exact same location, which they may either rent or own outright. They may be “Homesteading Boondockers” living off the grid all year long never moving off their land at all. They may be “Part Time Travelers” living in the RV on their own land most of the year and traveling in the RV only a few weeks of the year.

Full-Time RV Travelers are when Full-Time Travelers are also Full-Time RVers.

Me? I am a Full-Time Boondocker, a Semi-Full Timer RVer, and only an occasional vacationing traveler. What this means is this: I live on my own land, without utility hook-ups (no electricity, no running water, no sewer/septic). On dry warm days I live in a tent and on cold, rainy, or snowy days I move into a motorhome. My traveling consists of monthly weekend visits to in-state tourist attractions, festivals, fair grounds, beaches, fishing villages, state parks, etc. I am a Scottish Traveller by birth, race, and culture (note the double “LL”, but I am not a Traveler (single “L”) by life style.

So to answer your question: have a Maine license and I file my taxes in Maine.

Do you still need to own property somewhere to be a resident?

In some towns, in order to vote, you are required to own property and live on it 6 months of the year. Where I live, Old Orchard Beach, Maine, they have this law, but as I live here year round it is not a problem for me.

I know that folks who are Full Time Travelers rarely own property and usually use a service via Good Sam’s or Escappees or some other RV Club, which helps them provide “proof of residency”, though I’m not sure on the specifics of such things and you would have to ask some one who actually uses these services.

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This post was written by Wendy C Allen aka EelKat, is copyrighted by The Twighlight Manor Press and was posted on Houseless Living @ http://houselessliving.blogspot.com and reposted at EK’s Star Log @ http://eelkat.wordpress.com and parts of it may also be seen on http://www.squidoo.com/EelKat and http://laughinggnomehollow.proboards.com  If you are reading this from a different location than those listed above, please contact me Wendy C. Allen aka EelKat @ http://laughinggnomehollow.proboards.com/index.cgi?action=viewprofile and let me know where it is you found this post. Plagiarism is illegal and I DO actively pursue offenders. Unless copying a Blog Meme, you do not have permission to copy anything appearing on this blog, including words, art, or photos. This will be your only warning. Thank you and have a glorious day! ~ EelKat

UPDATE: My health since the stroke, the excommunication, the witch accusations, and Etiole . . .

Oh my – this has become quite a heavy trafficked lens. There was on day it had more than 3,000 visits. It is getting mountains of comments still, but, for the time being, the comments are still on hiatus. I just do not have the time to read all of them, and several are, well, not nice, and are frankly too upsetting for me to scroll through right now.

Sorry there has been no updates for a while. The excommunication thing is still ongoing, but from what I am seeing and hearing, while a few bishops and priests are adamant on wanting me excommunicated, they have had no luck convincing the higher authorities of The Church that they actually have a good solid case with reasonable grounds for excommunication. It’s like I said before – there is nothing in The Church’s handbooks that back up the accusations of these few local men, and it seems that the Salt Lake leadership is rather inclined to view these accusations to be just as silly and ludicrous as I myself feel they are.

However, the local bishop has put out a recommendation of disfellowship with in the local church congregation, in other words, members who formally had contact with me and called themselves my friends, as now “giving me the shunning I so rightly deserve”. Go figure. It’s not like I haven’t been shunned before. The first time I was shunned was when I was just 12 years old. Just goes to show how fickle these so-called “friends” really are. If that’s what they call friendship, well than I’m glad I never considered them to be my friends in the first place!

In any case, endless weeks of interviews and interrogation (which involved church leaders accusing me in “church court”, while I myself was not allowed to say a word in my own defense) has taken a toll on my health. I was scheduled for yet another of these closed door meetings with the Bishop and other church leaders on October 19th, 2009. However, I did not attend my scheduled interrogation because an hour prior to the meeting I had a stroke, which unfortunately has had a devastating effect on my health over all. I temporarily lost the ability to walk unaided or to lift anything. I also suffered from selective amnesia, which now results in my inability to remember anything that just happened to me. In other words I wake up today with no memory of yesterday. What little eyesight I had to begin with was also affected by the stroke. Formerly I could see about 8 inches from my face, now I can barely see 4 inches from my face, changing me from “nearly blind” to “legally blind”. It also had an effect on my ability to type, thus the reason you see a decrease in my blog posts, and my Squidoo lens building, and also why I retired from being a Squid Angel here on Squidoo. The stroke also weakened my over all immune system, resulting in my coming down with a server case of N1H1 the first week of November, and spent the most of November and December in a nearly bed ridden state.

I can’t remember the proper medical term for the type of stroke I had, I think it began with an “N”, but I am told that in simple terms it means “a stress induced mini-stroke brought on by a panic attack leading to a nervous breakdown leading to a stroke” and that this type of a stroke is a “warning sign” before a “major stroke” and that the only way to prevent the onset of a life threatening major stroke, is to remove all stress from ones life. I have to ask, how it is I am supposed to do that, when I have not left my house in nearly 20 years, and my stress is caused by the vandals that refuse to stop trespassing on my land to destroy my property, kill me pets, and than burned down my house forcing me to live under a tarp, all in the name of “driving out my demon”, “getting rid of the witch”, and doing it “because God told them to”. How do I get rid of this stress when it comes daily to my secluded near impossible to locate home? I only ever left my house to go to church on Sundays, and it’s been 9 years since I’ve done that, due to the fact that members took to shooting me with paint ball guns every time I tried to go into the church! How do I end the stress when I have to deal with these types of idiots who have nothing better to do than barge in uninvited into my life and harass me? It’s bad enough I have no one to help me, but why do people have to go out of their way to hurt me? I fail to see the logic behind their actions.

I am, happy to report that, as of January 2010, I have regained my ability to walk, and my ability to lift things, so I’m back to carrying 50lb bags of grain and cat-food across the 500 foot path from the street to the barn several times a week. 19 cats and 100 chickens, take a lot of feed each week, and normally I carry 2 bags at a time on my shoulders, (100lbs) but the stroke had left me unable to lift more than 4 or 5 lbs at a time. Seeing how I had no friends or family to help me while I was in my invalid state, I had no choice but to carry the cat-food and grain across the yard to the barn, in mixing bowls, because I was unable to lift anything heavier at the time.

Funny, I asked for help from some church members, so-called friends, and family members, and the answer I got back was: “You’ve got Etiole to help you. Have him carry the grain.” Their sarcasm is duly noted, and I would like to take this time to answer them. Etiole as I have said before is a frail little creature. He is barely bigger than a small child. He stands about 5′ 1″ to 5′ 3″, is desperately underweight, I seriously doubt if he weighs much more than 50lbs, and besides all that he is a notoriously fastidious fop. Besides his lack of body build, there is also his health to consider – as I said before, his health is not good, he is very weak, and rarely moves around much any more. Another thing to consider is his age. He is elderly, very elderly. He is the equivalent of a Human man in his 80s or 90s. Etiole is very, very, very, very old. He is near the end of his natural lifespan. Plus he has “germ issues”, very OCD germ issues, that keep him far away from from contact with farm manure. And did I mention he’s a fop? A fop = a man who could be best described as acting and dressing like an fancy, high society, elite, snob female. I did say he’s a drag queen. He won’t get his hands dirty. He won’t lift a thing. He’s the type who’d have a major overblown panic attack over a broken nail or a wrinkle in his dress. So, even if he could lift anything (which he can’t), he wouldn’t. No, Etiole is the farthest thing in the world from helpful when farm work is concerned.

The people who made the suggestion are already aware of these things, so their suggestion was nothing more than seething sarcasm, which is as about as helpful to me as a pile of ant dung. And so, I continue the farm work, alone, but since the stroke, it has become a chore in itself just for me to walk the huge long path from the road, down the cliff, across the collapsed bridge over the brook, through the garden, to the woods, to the barn.

During the course of my severely weakened sick state, I was called in to the Bishop’s office on several more occasions, however, I being too sick to get out of bed, and only leaving my sickbed long enough to feed the cats and hens each day than crawl back into bed, I thus did not go to any farther meetings with the Church leadership. They won’t stop. I don’t know how to get them to stop. I don’t bother them, I don’t talk to them, I don’t see them, I don’t even leave my yard any more in order to avoid them, and yet, they are relentless. If any one knows of any way to get these creeps out of my life once and for all – please let me know. Though, the fact that 16 of these people died in 2009, all from “freak accidents” -such as being hit by falling limbs or lightening, does indicate that if they don’t stop soon, Etiole is just going to annihilate the whole lot of them. In any case, with 16 of the reoccurring vandals now dead in the past 7 months, I have had a greatly reduced amount of vandalism and stress, seeing how dead vandals can no longer invade my land and vandalize it.

Those people who told me to ask Etiole to help me, I guess, when people say to ask Etiole for help, they don’t realize what that implies. He may not be able to lift a bag of grain, but he is good at changing local weather patterns and sending hail and lightening where-ever he wants it to go. So, in a way, I guess you could say that he helps out around the farm in his own way.

Waiting for Emmett to come.

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I think I have found the answer to why local church members and leaders call me a witch and set fire to my home.

I think I have found an answer to the vandalism, arsine, drive by shootings, witchcraft accusations, and other lesser forms of harassment that have happened at the hands of local church members these past 9 years: ***People often grudge others what they cannot enjoy themselves. -Aesop ***

In other words, my lifestyle is something they want and can not have, thus in their frustration they try to take it from me, and yet, in everything they have done, they have not, nor can not succeed. Why?

Because I unlike them live my life. I do the things I want to do, when I want to do them, how I want to do them. I am not controlled by a job or a church.

I think they feel trapped by their jobs, and trapped by their church. If they want to drop every thing and spend 10 hours on the beach, they do not have the freedom to do so, like I do.

If they want to wear 15th century ball gowns or fairy princess costumes to run to the grocery store, they can not do so, because they fear ridicule by their peers.

They have huge debts: house, cars, credit cards, bills for frivolous things. I own no man any thing.

When they burned down my house, the last thing they expected was for me to take to living under a tarp and continue on doing things no different than before. The lost of a house would have destified them, thus they thought it would me. But their fault was thinking that I care about material possessions – like they do.

I live what one woman once called: “the life of a wild and free feral child”, which she than added: “I wish I had your freedom”.

And that is what is boils down to: I have the freedom to do absolutely anything that pops into my head, something they do not have, something they want, but fear to pursue, because they are too blinded by the risks of my lifestyle to see the benefits of it. Because they can not have the freedom I have, they made (and continue to make) many attempts to take that from me. And yet they continue to fail. Why?

I will tell you why. I live my life to the letter, by Jesus’ words: To be the lily of the field. Not familiar with it? Look it up. Want to see a modern day translation of that? Watch the movie: You Can’t Take It With You.

If you have ever read Jesus’ words or watched the movie: “You Can’t Take It With You”, than you will know what I mean when I say this:

I am a lily.

Waiting for Emmett to come.

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RE to IM on FaceBook – more detailed info about what started the witch accusations and harasment

(ADDED NOTE: I’m a third generation LDS/Saint/Mormon; this answer went to a “new” fellow member who was asking what happened to inspire my previous post, this was my answer:)

I got 3 windows each with 50 tabs open, and speakers on my computer zoned out a while back, so I don’t get the “beep” from FB anymore and even though FB still says I’m online, but I already moved to a different site. It’s sort of hard to keep track of me online, I zip back and forth so much. I was on Zazzle, not FB, so I didn’t see the messages til just now. Sorry.

Nope, didn’t know about the AS group. I’m still sort of new to getting out of the house, it’s kind of hard to get used to doing. I pretty much only ever leave to go to the writer’s meetings (NaNoWriMo and Screnzy) and to buy cat food and grain.

The guy that was yelling at me is from the Sanford ward. (It was yesterday). He’s the same one that was accusing me of writing “deframitory” letters to tons of people in the Sanford Ward, though he’s yet to be able to prove that any of those letters actually exist. So I don’t know if there really are letters I supposedly wrote or if that’s just some rumor. He’s sort of weird. I’m used to him showing up every once in a while. Bishop LR got after him about it a while back, and he stopped, but Sanford just changed bishops, so, I don’t know, I guess he thinks he can try it again. Anyways my mom emails him, (I guess she emails every body, because I’ve had to change my email 34 times as a result of her emailing people who than email me in a rage over whatever it is she has said at that moment.) and that’s usually what sets him off.

My mom showed up at the yard today, with the same accusations – witchcraft, proof being my lack of shoes. I don’t where she comes up with this from, but I guess seeing how she’s saying the same stuff the next day, that she’s the one who got him saying it. (He’s got mental problems and tends to repeat whatever he hears some one else say, so I’m not too worried about him, because I know he’s just parroting some thing he heard some one else say. It’s the person he’s repeating that bothers me.) But yeah, seeing how my mom showed up with the exact same accusation, I guess she’s the one who said it to him to begin with. After he accused me of the letters in Sanford, my mom showed up a few hours later that same day accusing me of letters in Saco, so I’m not sure what to think there. I’d still like to see one of these letters, because last time letters like that showed up, well, the only time letters like that showed up, and I actually saw one, it turned out that it was written by one of my mom’s brothers, not me, like every one thought. It’s the only time a letter ever actually came forward though, so I don’t believe the poison pen letter accusations half the time, because it’s so rare that they can ever provide proof that the letters they accuse me of writing, are even real at all.

I guess, it’s always my mom that gets people all wound up, at least from what I’m finding out these past few months. I know from what Bishop K said that it was my mom complaining to him, because he was quoting stuff, word for word the way my mom says them – demon possession, spell casting, curses, me being a witch. I’m just so sick of it. It hurts when people call me a witch or say I’m demon possessed, but than I’ve got Autism so they think I don’t have any feelings to hurt. :( I just never can understand how folks can believe her. The whole believing that demons and witches are real, is just something I can’t get my mind around. It’s so illogical. I can not understand how my mom or her brothers or Bishop M or Bishop K can believe in those things.

Of course, I don’t understand how come every time a new Bishop or Stake Pres comes in, I have to be retried all over again. Double Jeopardy is illegal in the USA. The first time I got called in for “apostasy”, “witch craft”, “demon possession” and consideration for excommunication was when I was just 12 years old. That was Bishop Re and Stake Pres S. Bishop Re is the one who got released after having a mental breakdown. Stake Pres. S said there was no ground to excommunicate me than, because I was neither witch nor demon possessed nor apostate.

Than Bishop Ri called me in about 2 years later, said complaints of demon possession and witchcraft had been made again, but that he was no going to do anything about it, because he did not believe the complaint.

Bishop M replaced him, and at the same time Stake Pres E took over for S and it stated all over again. That time Bishop M brought in doctors from Pine Land Center, he claimed I was not only a demon possessed witch, but that I was schizophrenic as well. He tried several times to have me excommunicated between the ages of 14 through 17, each time he didn’t get any where with it.

Bishop B wanted to have all 264 of us (me and my relatives) excommunicated and is the one who told me “white trash like you and the rest of the Atwater clan don’t belong in this church”. That happened 13 years ago and was why I stopped going to the Cape Elizabeth Ward.

Cape E Ward broke off and became the Portland and Saco Wards instead, but by that time I had started going to the Sanford Ward.

That was when the vandalism started in. At first it was just rock throwing and stuff, but than the dead animals and photos of guns started showing up. In 2003 the drive by paint ball shootings started. They messed up my horse really bad, tore out half of her face and cut out both her eyes. It got so bad that the OOB police stationed a motorcycle cop to patrol Portland Ave. That’s when I stopped going to the Sanford Ward, because the police offices said they had evidence that it was people from church behind the vandalism. They had a list of suspects, all of them were from one of 5 different churches – 3 of the churches being the Saco, Portland, and Sanford LDS Wards. That’s when the reports and paparazzi got involved, one of the officers contacted the state police and one of them called ABC. We had reporters and photographers all over our land for about 3 months. That’s when my agoraphobia set it. Between the vandals killing my pets and the paint ballers and the reporters asking me questions and the police constantly warning us about who to avoid – I just freaked out big time. I couldn’t handle it.

Between 2001 and 2004 we had court dates on an almost weekly basis. I went to the early ones, but as the reporters and such got more involved, I stopped going to them. The later court dates from 2003 – 2005 I did not attend, except for one in summer of 2005, when I had a total meltdown in the court and the judge sent me to a psychiatrist. That’s when I found out I had Autism (Shizotypal Aspergers with OCD tendencies).

After the court stuff ended, my mom got something like $20K in the settlement, that’s when the vandalism went out of hand and our house got burned down.

Next thing we know, DHS is at the tent and telling us about an FBI investigation into OOB town manager, and that there were about 40 families on Portland Ave and Walnut Str that were involved, most every one of them had lost their homes, nearly all of them had been driven out of town, they couldn’t handle the stress. It was DHS that told us about Thomas and the other folks from the Saco Ward being investigated because some $3million had been embezzled out of town funds. That’s how I found out that the town manager and the town council were all members of the Saco Ward. OOB had to get rid of every one working in the town hall, and I had to deal with gov workers asking me questions left and right, only I didn’t know anything about all that stuff so finally they stopped coming over. I never did understand all that stuff with the DHS and the FBI and the town manager. No one ever gave us much information, they just wanted to know what we knew about it. In any case, finding that stuff out, freaked me out even more, because the guy they were investigating was a high priest in the Saco ward and the OOB town manager. They had records of how he’d been run out of 4 states already and he was constantly going from state to state to evade them. Finding that out, just scared the hell out of me and after that, I just stopped trusting every one.

I mean, you think you can trust a high priest right? You think you can trust your town manager right? But than the police and DHS tell us that these people we thought we could trust were the ones behind all the violence and death, and it just shatters your ability to trust any one after that. Now I don’t know who I can trust any more. But than, when all this was going on, normally I would have turned to the church for help, but I don’t any more because every time I do, the members and leaders start calling me a witch and telling me I’ve no right to be in church. I still don’t understand why people call me a witch.

I know several complaints happen because of the whole color thing. I see these glowing colors around people, which I thought every one saw. I didn’t realize until my late teens that other folks did not see them, or that it freaked people out when I talked about seeing them. But the whole me being a witch and casting spells and curses comes from that, because there were several times when I told people *that person* is about to die, and than within a few hours to a few days they did. People freaked out and said I made those people die, but what happened was, your color leaves and dissapers before your die, and if I see someone with no color, I know they’ll die soon. I was only 5 or 6 years old when I used to say those things, so the accusations of witchcraft and curses started early. That’s how the rumor got started at least. But that’s Autism, not witchcraft, so I don’t see how they can use that to call me a witch.

Than of course my encounter with whatever it is that Etiole is, is what started the accusations of me being demon possessed. I may not know what it is that Etiole is, but I do know what he is not, and he most certainly is not a demon. I assume you must know about Etiole, since it seems like every one does, but if not, I wrote all about him here: http://www.squidoo.com/amphibious-aliens so many folks kept asking me for more info about him, that I finally just wrote it down and now instead of reanswering everyone I just direct them to that link. It’s easier. And, again, though not many folks have ever seen Etiole, a few have, and they were not witches any more than I am, so I don’t see how my contact with him could make me a witch or demon possessed. Ben’s thoughts on the matter are that people who call Etiole a demon are silly, because (according to Ben) Etiole is an alien, some sort of Gray Hybrid or some such thing. (When Ben is not being a high priest, he spends his time being a ufologist.) I’m not sure what to think of Ben’s whole alien/alien abduction theory, but at least it makes more logical sense than the demon possession theory my mom’s always preaching. Personally, I’ve always thought of Etiole as a Faerie, which I say to mean a natural all be it rare, cryptiod creature, not some supernatural being or an extraterrestrial.

My mom’s constant accusations that first my Dodge and now my Volvo, are possessed by demons, baffles me. I have no explanation for her reasoning, other than I guess she is suggesting that Etiole somehow possesses them. I don’t know. I think the accusation that my cars have demons is the least logical and most confusing of any of the accusations to date.

A few years ago, in about 2005, I decided to look into this whole witch thing, to try to find out why folks kept saying I was a witch, but after talking to several wiccan-witches, they all told me the same thing – that there was no way in hell I was a witch because I was so much of a “super Christian Jesus freak”. Last spring some folks online said they thought I was more of an old fashioned Christian, the type like followed Jesus when he was still alive, and that today they are called ChristoPagans, which are neither witches nor what modern tradition calls Christian. I don’t know. I can’t figure any of it out. Christian call me a witch and witches call me a Jesus Freak, neither accept me as an equal. But still, after looking into the whole witch/wicca thing, I still can’t figure out why folks keep calling me a witch, and neither could any of the witches I talked to. They said the witch accusation was most likely based on my mode of dress. They thought it was most likely that folks look at my clothes and assume I’m a witch because of the things I wear.

But I don’t understand that either. You see, my grandmother was an Indian. She was a Kickapoo and lived much of her life in Hawaii. Because of her culture she wore muu-muu and kimono and long robes and stuff. She didn’t want her culture to die, like most native cultures had, but she couldn’t remember most of her native heritage, but her clothe connected her to her ancestors, it was the only part of her culture she had ever been taught (she was an orphan, in a time when Indians were still “red skin savages” so a lot of her culture history was lost.). As an adult she traveled around the world looking for information about her family history. That’s why she spent a lot of time in Hawiaii and Japan. I spent most of my childhood with her, because my mom was always in the hospital, and so, I grew up wearing muu-muus and kimono and robes and stuff, because that’s the way our native culture dressed. When she died in 1994, I inherited everything, including her collection of antique Hawaiian muu-muus and Japanese Kimono, which is what I have worn ever since I inherited them. The way I dress has nothing to do with religion and everything to do with my Native American culture, so I don’t understand why people look at the way I dress and call me a witch because of my cloths.

So, I mean, I can see where they are basing the witch accusations from (the Autism, Etiole, and my clothes), but I just can’t understand how they can actually believe such nonsense as to think I am a witch, because none of those things makes me a witch on their own, and even all three together can’t classify me as a witch either.

Bishop K did a lot of complaining about my cloths the day he called me to his office. I tried to explain about my grandmother, but my ability to speak coherently is not good. I’ve always had trouble making words come out of my mouth properly and that’s why I write things down instead. He kept saying I was a witch and putting spells on church members, and than he’d comment about my cloths.

The witch accusation upset me. I’ve gone through this every time a new bishop comes in. I don’t know who it is that runs to every bishop complaining about me and calling me a witch, but this has happened with 16 bishops and 3 stake presidents now. Every time I get told I’m a demon possessed witch casting spells and curses. Every time it’s eventually found out the accusations are false. Every time the monthly, sometimes weekly meetings with the bishop and stake pres drag on for 6 or 7 months. Double Jeopardy is illegal in the USA. You can’t retry some one for a crime they were already tried for and proven innocent. And yet, here we go again, with bishop number 16 and stake pres number 3. That’s double jeopardy 16 times! Why? I’ve already been dragged before 15 different counsels, each time with the same accusation of apostasy and witchcraft and excommunication threats. Sixteen times since I was 12 years old! Each time has 6 or 7 meetings. WHY? Why do I have to go through this every time a new bishop or a new stake pres comes into the ward?

Do you have any idea how stressful this is? And people keep asking me why I don’t come back to church? Why should I? What incentive is there for me to attend meetings at church, when I won’t get the chance to attend half of meetings because I’m too busy being called into the bishop’s office where I get accused of being a witch? Most of the meetings took place on Sunday, they’s take me right out of Primary or Young Woman’s classes. I missed more than half of my Sunday meetings because I had to sit in the bishop’s office every Sunday being told I was some evil apostate witch. How can they expect me to want to go to church when I’m not allowed to attend the meetings when I do come in?

I used to go to whatever ward Ben was attending, but I’ve been with him since I was 12, (he’s 30 years older than me) which in the Cape Elez Ward no one cared much about that, a few folks complained, but not many and no one did anything about it. In the Sanford Ward though, one of the members was a DHS social worker, and some how she found out about how old I was when I started going out with Ben, and even though I was 27 by the time she found out about it, she raised hell for him, she wanted him to be put in prison and tried to get me to press charges against him, she really went overboard about it and he got into a lot of trouble and he almost got excommunicated over it, and now he’s terrified to be seen in church with me.

I don’t know why she flipped out like that, because I was 27 years old at the time, yeah I was 12, but well, if she had ever read the church handbook, the church puts 12 years old as the legal marriage age, so, whatever. Anyways, Ben is just terrified out of his mind over the whole ordeal and that’s why he called off the wedding a few weeks before the wedding date. (He has huge phobia problems, and the DHS threats made them worse.) A lot of folks in the Sanford Ward threatened to never speak to him again if we got married, so now he hides the fact that we are together. We were supposed to get married in the temple, but they would not allow it. They took Ben’s temple recommend away and said I was not allowed to have on on grounds of “mental incompetency”. Some folks called me a “grave digger” and others called me a “gold digger” and others said I was with Ben because I wanted to be “a lovely young widow”. Uhm . . . at the time Ben had A LOT of money. His dad is one of the wealthiest men in Kennebunk Port. I did not know all of that at the time though, because I had never meet Ben’s dad and Ben had never once in those first 15 years ever mentioned his job or money. I had no idea he had all that money, not until folks in the Sanford Ward started saying those things to me. Their words hurt me more than anything else ever could. Of course, since than, Ben has lost all that money, and well, I proved them wrong because all these years later, I’m still with him.

But that’s why I stopped going to the Sanford Ward. The whole freak out over the 30 year age difference was a really big issue for people there, though I still don’t understand why. That happened 7 years ago and I had hoped that they had calmed down some about our huge age difference. I went back to Sanford once this last summer, and well, let’s just say I was most diffenatly not welcomed there. I was there all of 10 minutes before Ben had to rush me out of the building and we left. Ben didn’t dare go back to church for a few weeks after that, so I haven’t tried going back to Sanford since. It’s really upsetting that people can hate me like that, just because I’m 30 years younger than Ben. It’s the one thing of all of everything, that has bothered me more than anything else. I want so desperately to attend church with Ben again, but I’m not allowed to, people just go nuts when they see us together. That upsets me more than the witch accusations from the Cape Elizabeth and Saco Wards do.

So, I just don’t go to church at all any more, as you can see, for a lot of reasons. The witch and demon accusations I could ignore. I sort of grew up with them, and while they hurt my feelings and stress me out, I’ve sort of gotten used to them. I try to ignore them. It’s the accusations involving me and Ben and our age difference, that upsets me most of all. I find it very hard to ignore these, because they effect our relationship. They stress Ben and, he just does not deal with stress well at all. He freaks out and goes into hiding and doesn’t dare to contact anyone, not even me – uhm, yeah, he has all sorts of alien abduction fears and stuff, and rambles on ufo stuff all the time, and whenever any one freaks him out, he just goes super paranoid, and the whole deal with folks freaking out over our age difference sort of freaked him out worse than most other stuff does, and seeing him get all upset over it, made me even more upset than I already was over it. So all in all, that hurts my feelings and upsets me more than the witch accusations do. And, well, if they are not going to let me attend church with Ben anymore, and over such a stupid reason just because he’s 30 years older than me, than really, I’ve lost all desire to go to church at all now, because I have a hard time seeing how Jesus would think well of a church that breaks up families, the way folks there are trying to break up me and Ben. Me an Ben have been together for 22 years. We meet in church. Church was such a big thing for us. We attending every meeting – the morning meetings the evening meetings (the church stopped doing the double meetings in the mid 1980′s) and all the week day meetings. We used to come do the landscaping, and cleaning the building, and repairing the roof, and decorating for youth dances, etc. For years we spent an average of 12 to 15 hours a week in church. That was in Cape Elizabeth, before they consolidated the Cape Elizabeth and Portland Wards.

The Cape Elizabeth Ward does not exist any more, it got folded into the Portland Ward in about 1995-ish, the same time the Cornish Ward broke off of it. Most of the folks I knew ended up in the Cornish Ward. Than Saco Broke off of Portland a few years later. I don’t know any body in the Portland and Saco Wards today, it’s all new folks now. And that’s what really gets me – I mean, how do people there even know who I am? I asked Johnny that, and he said it’s because me mom is constantly talking about me. According to Johnny, my mom is “obsessed with you” he said. He added “you should hear her at Wayne’s house, she talks about you all day long”. I asked Ben, if he knew anything about that, because, I rarely ever see my mom – like months and months and months go by, between seeing her. Ben told me that she emails him almost daily, and than he forwarded her emails to me – I was stunned! Every one of them was her talking about me and how “evil” I was. She used the words “evil” and “nasty” over and over again to describe me and spent a lot of time talking about my Twighlight Manor books. I found that fact interesting, considering she has yet to read one of my TM books and half the stuff she said I had written in them was not true. Oh well.

I’ve since found out that she has been emailing copies of these same emails to several of my uncles and, some one named “Corbet”, Johnny said that that is some woman from church. Don’t know, never heard of her, so I don’t know why my mom would be saying all that stuff to her. (I found out, because when Ben forwarded the emails to me, all the email addresses my mom had sent the email too was in the box). I don’t know. I just don’t understand it.

I just realized how long this got. Uhm. Yeah, I guess I’ve been writing for the last 2 hours. Whoops. Sorry about that. I guess I should go before I end up writing a whole book here. =P

Well, that’s weird. I just noticed that FB pulled up the link to my Squidoo lens. Didn’t know it did that. Well, there’s a picture of Etiole there. LOL! I spend most of my time on Squidoo and Zazzle and Zanga so I so rarely use IMs, emails, or messages, I’m not too sure how they work I’m afraid. I guess it pulled up the link, like on the status box, because I typed it a ways back. Whatever.

Waiting for Emmett to come.

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http://eelkat.wordpress.com
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http://www.scriptfrenzy.org/user/132659

PLEASE . . . . somebody, anybody. . . . PLEASE HELP ME!

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They just now, just called again. Again demanding that I come into the the bishop’s office at the church tonight, again demanding that I meet with the Stake President. And again it has triggered a mass panic attack. It’s happening again. JUST LIKE BEFORE. I can’t stop shaking. My chest hurts and my lungs hurt. My hands are shaking so bad I can barely type this. It’s like before. Only, I’m shaking a lot worse, it’s so bad my glasses keep falling off. I can’t stop shaking. I can’t breath.

It’s like before, like a panic attack, only really, really, really bad. Why won’t they leave me alone. I need them to leave me alone. Please make them leave me alone. I don’t know if I can live through many more of these stroke like attacks. I have one every time they call. Please make them stop calling me. Tell them to leave me a lone. Please help me. I can’t stop shaking. My whole body is skaking all over I don’t know what to do.

Please call the church at 607-9517 or 207-666-3481 and tell them to leave me alone (I find the 666 in their # ironic) Ask for Robert Taylor. He is the counselor in charge of handling phone calls to the Stake Presadent of the Augusta Maine Stake.

You can read more about this 31 year on going harassment at the following links:

Excommunication for publishing my 2008 NaNoWriMo Book – Update

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HELP! Any doctors out there? Medical advice?

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Health UPDATE – Stroke caused by panic attack triggered by LDS Church excommunication threats :(

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Still Planning on Doing NaNoWriMo this year in spite of recent health issues

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Eleven Days Til NaNoWriMo and Stroke Update

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My Aliens vs Your Demons – Yep – If I’m Crazy, What Are You???????

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Excommunication – 2008 NaNoWriMo book banned – Update – My Inbox if overloading – a mass reply going here

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REPOST: For Fear of Little Men: First Draft of my autobiography book to be published in 2010+/-

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Note – I have not been to the LDS/Mormon church in 13 years, and yet, they continue to harass me on an almost daily basis. :(

In 2004 I started writing “Faith Not Religion”, my infamous 900 page rant on why I left the Mormon church. It was during the two years where I just sat there doing nothing but writing that book that I finally realized for the first time in my life that I WASN’T evil, like so many bishop kept telling me! I wasn’t demon possessed, like so many bishop kept telling me . What I was, was a victim of 27 years of mental and emotional abuse at the hands of a bunch of crazy tyrants. While writing “Faith Not Religion” I learned quite a bit about myself. Among them I learned:
I’m tired of being told I’m a witch.
I’m tired of being told I’m evil.
I’m tired of being told I do the things I do because I’m possessed by a demon.
I’m tired of being told I’m going to hell.
I’m tired of being told I’m inferior because I’m a lowly female.
I’m tired of being told not to talk because that’s reserved for men.
I’m just plain tired of BEING TOLD.
Every one talks to me, no one ever talks with me.
I want freedom from BEING TOLD.
I wish, that there was someone who would actually treat me like I was a person. Like I was important. Like I mattered.
I’m tired of being harassed by these people.
I’m tired of it.
Putting up with the abuse all those years was killing me.
Them killing my pets was an evil act.
Them paintballing my car was an evil act.
Them throwing rocks at and blinding my horse, was an evil act.
Them burning my drawings in the woodstove was and evil act.
Them burning my manuscripts in the wood stove was an evil act.
Them saying I was evil was an evil act.
They were the ones who were evil, not me.
Not being allowed to get a job because I was a female, was an evil thing for them to do to me.
Them smashing my Liberace` records was an evil act.
Them stealing parts off of my car and leaving it in ruins was an evil act.
Them setting fire to my home and leaving me homeless was an evil act.

Please put an end to this before they cause my death. I don’t think I can live through another stroke. PLEASE HELP ME!. Please call the church at 607-9517 or 207-666-3481 and tell them to leave me alone (I find the 666 in their # ironic) Ask for Robert Taylor. He is the counselor in charge of handling phone calls to the Stake Presadent of the Augusta Maine Stake. Please. call him. PLEASE! Why won’t they leave me alone. I need them to leave me alone. Please make them leave me alone. I don’t know if I can live through many more of these stroke like attacks. I have one every time they call. Please make them stop calling me. Tell them to leave me a lone. Please help me. I can’t stop shaking. My whole body is shaking all over I don’t know what to do. Please some one help me.

Waiting for Emmett to come.

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NaNoWriMo RE: What Fish Could You, uh, Fish for in the East Coast?

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What Fish Could You, uh, Fish for in the East Coast?




[quote=Bootscooper]In the East Coat, around the tri-state area, what edible fish could you get to eat?


[/quote]


Tri-state – my homeland :) And me living right on the ocean, I’m surrounded by rifle toting lobster man, and get to see the lobster war shoot outs all the time. Fishing is our # one source of income, and it’s big business. If you are not a fishermen, you are related to one, married to one, work for one, or at least know some one who does. Maine is 73% water and has the longest coastline of any other state. Yeah. Every one around here has fish on the brain.

You didn’t say what type of fishing you plan on using so I’ll list both:

Off the coast/deep sea:

    Lobster is #1 (the #3 source of income in Maine, after Tourism and Blueberries. Potatoes and Milk are 4 and 5.) Marlin Shrimp Sea bass Atlantic Salmon Pollack Sea Urchins Halibut Flounder Eels (big ones) Skate (what we call Sting Rays) Octopus Squid Manta Rays (big ones – big, big, big ones – 8 foot wings are not uncommon) folks don’ fish for them, but once in a while one will get caught in a net. People don’t eat them, btw. Shark (lots of types, Sand, Nurse, etc, keep in mind though the Great Whites are extremely rare, so you can mention them, but it would be a fluke to see one around here) Humpback Whales, if your story is set before the anti whaling laws. Whaling was a big business around here in the 1700′s ish. and also Scallops, Clams, Mussel, Crab, and several assorted snails but technically that’s not called “fishing” it’s called “digging”. Also, we are in the “Man o War” region. Man o Wars are giant killer jelly fish, that can get 30 feet long. In warm summers they get washed in along the coast, by the gulf stream. People don’t fish for them, but fisherman do once in a while get killed by them. Areas have to be closed down if any Man o War are sighted, and wait until they head back out to sea again. This only happens once every few years though, and is not that common an event.

Inland – river/lake/pond/stream:

    Eels (small ones) Brown Trout Rainbow Trout Catfish Salmon

Sorry, afraid I don’t know many inland fish, I live right on the ocean and rarely leave town.

I’m afraid I can’t help you with any details or specifics. Ive never been fishing in my whole life! LOL! My boyfriend is a hobby fisherman and my neighbor is a lobster men (every one’s neighbor is a lobster man around here.) and these are the fish they commonly catch and or mention seeing, or have known others to catch. They are the ones I just always hear getting mentioned around town and such.

Also, Harbor Seals are every where, and commonly get caught by mistake, and have to be released. But if your story is set old enough, like before the 1950′s, fisherman used to shot every seal they saw on sight, hundreds and hundreds of them, because the seal attack the nets and traps and lines and steal the fish.

Pretty much every one eats fish, most every meal, every day of the year.

Here in town we have fishing shacks on every street corner. A fishing shack is like a dinner that is run by the wife of some local fisherman, and all they serve is fresh fish. The Clam Bake, Bailey’s, WormWoods, and Ken’s Place are the biggest ones, and attract tourists from all over the world. The Clam Bake is a giant restaurant now as a result.

Hey – why don’t you just read what they sell off their menu? Or ask them on their FaceBook page? Plus all those actual picture of what the stuff looks like cooked should give you plenty to work with. That should help you out:

http://www.clambakerestaurant.com/ or http://www.clambakerestaurant.com/dinners.shtml

http://www.facebook.com/pages/Scarborough-ME/Kens-Place-Seafood-Restaurant/64297093127?v=info (2009 was their 82nd year in business)

These two are right across the street from each other (more or less) and I live right behind them on the beach. :)

and this one is right next door to Ken’s

http://bayleysseafood.com/ and is the one I personally like to eat at most often. I like their Seafood Platter, which is a little bit of everything that got brought in that morning. Usually it includes Haddock fillets, scallops, shrimp, clam strips, etc.

and they make the best Lobster Rolls in Maine. You can’t visit Maine with out trying a Lobster Roll and drinking Moxie.

and here’s one from Portland:

http://www.portlandlobstercompany.com/menu.html

and Moxie btw is this:

http://www.moxiefestival.com/

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Moxie

your Maine readers will think your Maine characters are weird if they are NOT drinking Moxie.

You know, you might want to head to the Maine Regional Forums and ask there. Some one might have more info for you.

And writing this list up for you . . . wow! You just gave me some great ideas to add to my story, which, happens to be set in a fishing villsge off the coast of Maine – couldn’t imaging why. ;) =P

Incubus: Fear the Night!

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NaNoWriMo RE: Canada vs. America

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Canada vs. America

[quote=Clockwork Smith]One of my main characters is a 14 year old Canadian (probably lived around the Toronto area) who just moved to America. I am trying to think of things that he might miss. I am drawing up a blank. Tell me about the differences between Canada and America if you would be so kind. Or just tell me about Canada.


The novel is set in the present day. What might his favorite sports team be? If you could tell me about different big cities in Canada, I would really appreciate it. I don’t know if I even want him to be from Toronto or not. Would a fourteen year old be allowed to rde the subway by himself? Etc.


Answering any of these questions will help me greatly. Thank you.


[/quote]

I’m going to agree with every one who’s saying it depends on where in America they move to. I’m also pretty shocked at nearly every answer on this thread, because I’ve lived in America my whole life and I’ve never heard of half the things these people are answering you with. Funny thing is, I know everything the Canadians are answering you with. Could it be that Maine is more like Canada than it is like the rest of America?

I’m wondering why everyone keeps saying Canadians would miss Tim Horton’s – they are close to being on as many corners in America as Starbucks is – pretty much every street in every town has at least one of each – and I hate both of them btw.

[quote=Moondragon]noticed some differences in speech:

They say Natives; we say Native Americans (Well, I guess Native Canadian is a bit of a mouthful!)
[/quote]

Well I guess that just depends on where in America you are than, because in Maine, we say Natives too.

And I live in Old Orchard Beach – we get 2 million tourists every summer. Most of the one’s from Canada talk no different than the locals. Here in Maine, we have a really hard time understand what folks from the lower 47 are saying, esp if they are from New York or Utah, and we often ask them to repeat themselves several times before we finally figure out what they are talking about. New Yorkers and Utah folk are the absolute worst, it’s like even though they are speaking English, it’s so far from being the English I know, that it’s like they are speaking a completely different language.

For instance in Maine we say Soda, in Utah they say Pop.

We say Roof, they Raouuuuuf (like it was 3 syllables not 1)

We say Brook, they say Crick

We say Cougar, they say Mountain Lions.

We say Sleeping Bag, they say Sleeping Sack.

We say Sex, they say Shag

We shake hands and say “Good morning how are you doing?” they say “Yo Dude, wassup?” and slap you on the back.

You try to shake hands with a Non-Mainer/Non-Canadian and they jump back and look at you like they have never seen a handshake before, but around here that’s how every body greats every body – and I’m told it’s a “very French Canadian/Quebec thing to do”.

Another thing Non-Mainer/Non-Canadian folks complain about us Maine folk doing and say it is a “very French Canadian/Quebec thing to do” is the way we eat. In Maine, a meal could take an hour or two or three – we prefer to actually sit down and enjoy our food. (Which I suppose is why you can go 10 or 12 towns before you see a McDonald’s) We tend to eat at home or eat at restaurants, rather than at fast food joints. The Non-Mainer/Non-Canadian tourists though? They get all upset and act like it’s the end of the world if you haven’t scarfed down your food like some sort of rabid animal. They are always in a rush to eat in 5 minutes or less and than rush off to the next thing. . . and than they leave half their food on their plates! I say once again – HOW RUDE!

We say Hood, they say “That Thingamabop there on the front of the car, you know I mean, that thing, right there, that” and they start RUDELY snapping their fingers inches from your noise with one hand while pointing to the hood of their car with the other hand.

And WHAT is it with the really RUDE and ill mannered way that New Yorkers NEVER SHUT UP and keep snapping their fingers in your face when they talk to you? (Utah folks wag their index finger and they DO sometimes hit you in the noise because they get so damn RUDELY close to you when they talk)

Our chowder is white and has fish and corn in it, their chowder is red and has tomatoes and pasta in it . (Chowder by the way MEANS “White Stew”, so technically any soup that is NOT white is NOT chowder)

Us Native Mainers (a Native Mainer being a person whose family has been in Main for a minimum of 5 generations and -yes- leaving Maine for a few years to go to a NonMaine college will get you branded as a Non-Mainer) are constantly amazed by the Out-of-Staters that move in here because they love Maine, but than bitch and moan a few months later because it’s too much like Canada. Well, did they ever look at a map?

My over all impression of the lower 47 is that they are fast talking rude busy bodies. The tourists who come here are often quick to say they love coming to Maine because it’s like going to a different country without the need for a passport or because it’s “Like going to Canada with out going through customs”.

[quote=MichelleZB]What I notice when I go to the States is that people don’t know the little verbal dance of politeness most Canadians do. Buying gum from an American corner store, I’ll look the clerk in the eye as he gives me my change and say, “Thank you so much,” or just “Thanks!” And they usually have no idea what to say back. I usually get a look of shock and an “Uh-huh, ” or a “Yup!” Both of those responses sound weird to my Canadian ears.

I don’t think it’s because Americans aren’t polite. I think they just don’t have the catchphrases we do. And Canadians aren’t particularly polite. I just say “Thanks” because I’m used to it. I don’t even hear the “You’re very welcome” or “No problem” they say in response. It sounds too normal to register.[/quote]

I completely agree. I worked in retail for 17 years and the Non-Mainers/Non-Canadian tourists that I meet have no manners or etiquette skills whatsoever! Every time I meet someone who acts rude at the register, I’ll ask “So how are liking Maine so far?” and they’ll get stunned and shocked that I could tell they were a tourist! LOL! They are completely clueless!

You are right, I don’t think they are intentionally being rude, I don’t think they are even aware that they are among the rudest folks I’ve ever encountered. They completely have no idea that they are acting rude in any way at all! The fact that they are so completely clueless as to how rude they are, always amazes me!

From what I can see though, from the Non-Mainers/Non-Canadian tourists I’ve meet and dealt with over the years, I think the problem is that they are always in a hurry. They have to rush in the store and rush back out in 5 seconds flat otherwise the whole world will blow up – I mean, that’s how I see it. I mean look at the way they eat! Scarf the food down in under 10 minutes and than they are out of there. No time to sit and relax. No time to enjoy their food. No time to just look out the window and think about life. No time to . . heck, they don’t even have time to look at their watch and see what time it is! OMG!

I look at these folks and I wonder, what’s the rush? Where’s the fire? Why are they running around like half crazed mad men all the time? Sometimes I ask them why they are in such a hurry, and it’s never a for a good reason, either. It’s not, my wife’s in labor and I have to get to the hospital so no time to eat. No. It’s the game is on and I gotta get to the bar and watch it with the boys. I’m like really? That’s important? How?

So my conclusion is, that it’s not that they are rude because they lack manners, they are rude because they (supposedly) lack the time to be considerate.

But hey, time is what you make of it, so if you lack time, maybe what you really lack is management of your life.

[quote=Laura Rainbow Dragon]
Guns are a biggie. Canadians don’t carry them. We don’t feel that we should or that our neighbours should or that common citizens should have a right to. This is not true of all Canadians, of course. There are some who wish to carry guns, and there are some people (police officers, hunters, etc.) who are legally licensed to possess a gun (and there are some criminals who carry one illegally) but this is a minority opinion in Canada. If your character is a city boy, there’s a good chance he’s never seen a gun in real life — and seeing one in a friend’s house/car could freak him right out. (Plus, if you move him into a community in which possession of guns by the citizenry is commonplace, this could freak his parents out. They might forbid him to go into the homes of kids whose parents kept guns in the house, for instance.)
[/quote]

That’s another thing – EVERY ONE in Maine walks around with a shot gun or rifle, usually every where they go. Men. Women, Children. If they don’t have it on them, they’ve got it sitting on the seat of their car. Non-Mainer tourists get all freaked out about it when they see folks walk into a store carrying a rifle. It’s kind of weird, cause they act like the guy is going to shoot up the store or something when all he was doing was stopping in the buy a case of drinks for his hunting buddies – hell, the store owner usually has a rifle sitting under the counter. I never understood why the Non-Mainer tourists freak out like that when they see folks carrying rifles. It’s pretty weird, I mean, you’d think they never saw a gun before! Can’t say I’ve ever heard of Canadians doing this (carrying guns every where), I can’t recall ever seeing a Canadian carrying a gun before, but they don’t get all freaked out over it the way the Non-Mainer tourists do.

[quote=Laura Rainbow Dragon]

In Canada, when we enter a person’s home (our own, or someone else’s), we remove our shoes at the door.

[/quote]

We do this in Maine too, and it’s another thing that Non-Mainers/Non-Canadian tourists get all bitchy about. . . I’m mean, really, really, REALLY bitchy about it too. You ask them to take off their shoes and you’d think we just said we wanted to cut their feet off! OMG! They start flipping out talking about germs and getting their feet dirty and freaking out like I don’t know what! Again, more rudeness. Boy, do the Non-Mainers/Non-Canadian tourists act like a bunch of winy spoiled brats sometimes – no all the time. They complain about everything. EVERYTHING! It’s too hot, it’s too cold

And than there’s cell phones. You are lucky if you can get cell phone reception in most places in Maine. Pretty much only York & Cumberland county have cellphone access, outside of York county, heck, tough luck getting a land line, let alone cell phone! But the Non-Mainers/Non-Canadian tourists don’t realize this until they get here, and boy oh boy you should here them howl! You’d think their entire family had just been killed in a plane crash or something the way they moan and groan and bitch and complain and go on and on and on about how they can’t live without their cellphone!

[quote=swenson]
Also, many people not from Quebec do not like the people from Quebec. Quebec get some specific privileges over other provinces (oh, there’s another thing- provinces in Canada, states in the US) because they are primarily French. For example, the official language is French (not English). Quebecers are viewed (at least by people from Ontario, which is where my knowledge comes from) as being kind of full of themselves, kind of like how a lot of people in the Midwest (like Michigan!) would call people from out East “full of themselves”.

Most people in Ontario would probably have learned French in school, so if they aren’t exactly fluent, they know a fair bit.

(by the way, my knowledge all comes from having relatives and close friends in Canada, as well as traveling there several times!)[/quote]

Yep, same with Maine. Most folks in Maine are French, speak French, act French and would rather hob-knob with Quebec folks than the lower 47.

Do you realize that EVERY YEAR Maine and Quebec join forces and try to recede The Union/Canada? Why? Because once upon a time Quebec was it’s own country. (and it was not that long ago either, some of the old folks are old enough to remember that – Maine is was of the last States to join the Union after all) Than America chopped off Maine and Canada adsorbed Quebec.

Maine HATES the rest of America and we Mainers are not afraid to tell every Non-Mainer/Non-Canadian tourist as much, of course, a lot of Non-Mainer/Non-Canadians tell us they hate Maine too, so the animosity is mutual. And from what I hear Quebec folks say, they pretty much hate the rest of Canada and the rest of Canada hates them. (a lot of Quebec folks shop here in Maine and visit Maine on the weekends) (Maine is not really connected to the rest of the Union, we are smack dab in the middle of Quebec only connected to the USA by a small sliver on the west side.)

Keep in mind here that though Maine is part of America, geographically speaking, we are farther North on the map that a large portion of populated Canada. Many people think “America” (in reference to Canada) and think warmer, souther, but they forget to think about Maine and Alaska – both North and colder.

[quote=ohmynoti]
-all packaging in canada is printed in both french and english. consequently, when i look at american packaging, i often feel like it’s missing something. (in other matters, some provinces are more bilingual than others — + there are substantial french-speaking populations outside of quebec. for example, i live in new brunswick right now, which has a large acadian population. but packaging is bilingual across the country. so even an anglophone who’s never conversed or taken a class in french in their life can probably recognise a lot of french food-words. they kind of become part of how you visually recognise a product. it seems woefully incomplete if it’s not jambon ham + cheese fromage.)[/quote]
[quote=Moondragon]The whole English/French thing in Canada is like the English/Spanish thing here in California. Everywhere you go just about, signs are in English and Spanish, and you can pick up a few spanish words that way.
[/quote]

REALLY????????????????

Do you mean outside of Maine America does not print all food packages in French and English???? WOW! I actually did not know that. EVERYTHING in Maine, food, computers, appliances, comes in packaging printed in English on one side and French on the other.

That is so weird. I’ve never seen the packaging without French on it before. Yeah, that’d sort of freak me out.

[quote=ohmynoti]
-canadian tire is the standard go-to place for anything useful. it’s kind of like wal-mart, but slightly less evil + with even more annoying commercials. [/quote]

WalMart just started showing up here in Maine. OMG! That store is like freaking HUGE! Man! Most stores here in Maine, you walk in, and you can see the entire store – the whole place is maybe 900 feet square. Than WalMart shows up and what are they 200,000+ square feet? I mean, you can’t even see the back of the store from the front door and finding anything – argh! It takes you 20 minutes just to walk from one side to the other. It’s so weird and freaky. I don’t really like the big block stores moving in. It’s like we are being invaded or something. It’s just too weird for me.

[quote=jadedragon]There are harsher littering laws in Canadian cities than here in America so Canada is oftentimes way cleaner. NOT THEIR HARBORS.. but the streets and parks.[/quote]

That’s another thing Non-Mainers/Non-Canadian tourists point out about Maine. Maine has no-smoking laws (you can’t even smoke in your own car) and has had them since the 1970′s. There is a $500 fine for littering, and if police catch you throwing a cigarette butt on the ground, yeah, you got to pick it up and pay $500 for tossing it. You CAN go to jail for littering if you already got a warning before.

It’s rare to see trash on the ground in Maine, even in the big cities. Most towns have clean up crews that do nothing but walk around town all day long picking up litter. Non-Mainers/Non-Canadian tourists are constantly commenting on how clean everything is, which I’ve always found as strange because, I mean, why wouldn’t it be clean? What, are they saying that the rest of America outside of Maine are rude lazy slobs who don’t clean up after themselves? That’s always what I think, when some tourist comments on how clean and un-littered Maine’s cities are. It just baffles me, that where they come from is so different in cleanliness that CLEANLINESS is the thing they found to say as the reason they like Maine! OMG!

[quote=deadlyretro]

The only thing I can think of is that Milk tends to come in bags,(while I’ve been told it only comes in cartons in the States; just another stereo type?) LOL.
[/quote]

I can’t speak for the rest of America, but in Maine, milk comes in plastic bottles – pint, quart, gallon and glass bottle – pints and quarts only. It’s highly unusual to see a cardboard carton of milk. Orange juice comes in cartons.

Also, there are huge fines and jail time for buying and selling non-Maine milk in Maine. It’s like the equivalent of bootlegging.

And that’s another thing Non-Mainer tourists constantly complain about – milk prices. Every time I go to the store to buy milk, there will be some tourist there arguing with the store clerk about the milk prices. They really get going too – screaming and yelling and pounding their fists on the counter their face turning purple, their eyes bulging out hysterically, as they shriek out about “highway robbery” and “gypping” them. They go on about how they have never in their life paid more than a dollar for a gallon of milk, they say stuff like “You’d think it was gasoline” and “I could fill my car up for less!”, and than they storm out of the store without buying the milk.

I stand there amazed each time I see this, because well, a dollar for milk? A you kidding! Quarts of milk haven’t been a dollar since the 1970′s and don’t ever remember gallons being that cheap! Milk is a commodity, the price goes up and down with the gold bullion, gas, and corn prices – yeah, usually it’s 5 dollars a gallon, but it can go higher, a lot higher. Ten dollars for a gallon of milk – not unheard of. The price changes every day, some time several times a day, you never know what the current milk prices are until you get to the store and buy a bottle.

I kind of get the impression that milk is not a commodity outside of Maine, or that other states don’t have the “only in state milk” laws, and that the rest of America doesn’t have dairy farms on every corner.

[quote=TheWorldBeginsWithMe]I don’t think this has been said yet (I haven’t gotten through the whole thread), but vinegar on french fries. (and they are called french fries or fries not freedom fries or whatever) and our iced tea has a lot of sugar in it. It is not simply cold tea.[/quote]

Yep, again, Maine, a state in America is going with Canada on this. Tourists always freak out when they see us pouring vinegar on our French-fries. (and I’ve never of freedom fries before).

And when they order tea at restaurants they always freak out over it being way too sweet.

[quote=Bellalovett]The warmer weather might take some getting used to, especially if he goes as far Florida or Texas.[/quote]

Maine and New Hampshire are both actually colder than Canada. Some parts of Canada have a much longer growing season than we do here in Maine.

[quote=kimifly][quote=Nibo]Skittles made of chocolate in Canada? To my knowledge, having lived there for three years, they were not made of chocolate. However, Smarties were made of chocolate in Canada instead of that horrible chalky stuff (in Canada, that stuff is called Rockets).[/quote]
No, Skittles are not made of chocolate in Canada. Haha. :P [/quote]

There ARE chocolate skittles. I don’t know if they sell them in Canada or not, but they do exist, and they are called “Chocolate Skittles”.

. . . and I agree with this bloggers review of them, they taste terrible! http://www.unboundedition.com/pdp_thinking/2008/nov/13/rainbow-blight-a-chocolate-rain-on-skittles-parade/ (but there is a picture of them here if you’ve never seen them.

[quote=stefaneko]

Trees. I always miss the trees. Trees everywhere. I grew up/live in a suburb of Vancouver, and my house from ages 5-present is pretty much in the middle of a fricken forest. I walk through a forest to get to school, I play in the forest, I’m SURROUNDED by forest. I’ve noticed that in the States, even in the more northern regions, there’s a lot more clear-cutting and general suburban sprawl. It drives me NUTS. [/quote]

That’s the first thing Non-Mainer/Non-Canadian tourists say when they come to Maine – “Ugh, there are so many trees! You can’t see the sky! How can you stand it?” and than they start talking about being afraid of bear and mountain lions.

[quote=stefaneko]
That’s another thing. America feels more… soulless. It feels more unhappy, more… forced, I guess? It feels like everyone there hates their life. There’s more suburban sprawl, like I said. Plus, things seem less tidy. There’s more litter and more decay.
[/quote]

I get that same impression about the Non-Mainer/Non-Canadian tourists when they are here each summer.

[quote=kimifly]Also, depending on where in the US your character is moving, the winters might be very different. In the southern states they don’t have snow, so that means no building snowmen or having snowball fights or ice hockey or snowboarding or any other winter activities like that. And no snow at Christmas…. That’s what I missed the most when I was away from Canada.[/quote]

I hear a lot of the Non-Mainer/Non-Canadian tourists who come to Maine in the winter say they come for the snow because wherever it is they came from in the lower 47, they don’t have snow and well, Maine can get up to 6 or 7 feet per storm and in some place the snow drifts get over 20 feet tall. YAY Snow! Also, it’s pretty cold year round, and we have gotten snow in every month except for August. Our winters can be 8 months long during colder years in some areas.

And Non-Mainer/Non-Canadian tourists with children who spend their first winter in Maine and enroll their kids in the local school, freak out over the lack of “Snow Days”. We call anything under 6 inches a dusting and they start flipping out saying the schools should close! I’m thinking “What the hell? Are they nuts? This is nothing! Honey, I got news for you – in Maine there has to be 2 or 3 feet of snow and a blizzard wind force to get school canceled on account of snow. If you are scared of 6 inches of snow than you sure as hell better get your ass out of Maine before the FIRST (of many) blizzard of the season hits!” It never ceases to amaze me how folks from the lower 47 can have such huge panic attacks over a little snow.

Of course, you do got to remember, though Maine is part of America, geographically speak, we are farther North on the map that a large portion of populated Canada, so yeah, we are colder and get more snow than many places in Canada.

And let’s not forget Alaska – which is WAAAAY Above Canada. ;)

So yeah, where you move to in America is going to make a pretty big difference.

[quote=MissLizzy]I
-School here starts in September. In some parts of the States (I’m not sure aboue all), school starts mid-August.
[/quote]

Yeah, Non-Mainer tourists comment on how Maine’s school year is different than the rest of America’s – In Maine it runs from last week of August to the second week of June. So only July and a couple of weeks off August and June for vacation. But this is because of the snow. As mentioned above, it takes a lot of snow to warrant a snow day, but there is a reason for that. When we get enough snow for a snow day, it’s a snow week or more, usually due to state wide month long black outs and that fact that well, it’s kind of hard to have school when you can’t find the school building under all the snow. =P Most years students end up with no school through out most of January and most of February.

I guess, based on what the Non-Mainer tourists say, the rest of America has school running first week of September through second week of May.

==========

[quote=Laura Rainbow Dragon]

There are many cultural differences — which ones in particular your character experiences will depend on where in Canada he lived and where in the US he moves to, but expect him to experience some form of culture shock.

[/quote]

Yeah, what she said.

But anyways, the point of my post is. . . you REALLY need to figure out WHERE in the USA your Canadian is moving too, because if they were to move to Maine, the only things that would be different would be stuff like money and measurements, and such. Stores, habits, accents, slang, and attitudes would be pretty much the same as what they are already used too. Where as even a Mainer would have trouble moving to another state in the America, just because Maine is so different from the rest of the Union. (And that’s another thing – Maine folks say The Union, not America.)

Likewise, you got to remember, it would also depend on what part of Canada your character came from too. If he came from Quebec, French would be his first language, and changes are pretty high that he wouldn’t speak English much, if at all. Whereas the rest of Canada, speaks English and may not even know French.

So, you need to try to pin point exactly WHERE in Canada he came from and WHERE in the US he went to. Keeping in mind here that you are dealing with two of the world’s largest countries, meaning the peoples of each are pretty diverse and vary widely depending on what region of Canada/America they hail from.

Than once you know from where and to where, you can re-ask your question, and get better, more precise answers. As it stands right now, the best you can hope for is a huge mish mash of hundreds of different sub cultures.

All Hail Bela Lugosi!
Dracula!

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Some Thoughts on Writing About Real Places In Fictional Novels (A NaNoWriMo Post)

Today while reading the NaNoWriMo forums, I ran across this question which inspired a rather long winded answer from me. The question and my answer to it follow:

What village is right to base my fictional one off?
I’ve got so much great research on villages, now I’m trying to find a village that seems right to kind of base it off, I feel like I need to for some reason, just put up with me!

I’m looking for the kind of architecture like Lacock and Castle Combe, but Lacock is too big of a village I’m looking for and Castle Combe is too small!

Not looking for coastal villages either, preferably in land.

Thanks in advance!

I’m afraid I’ve never heard of Lacock or Castle Combe, and I’ve no idea where they are in the world either. Uhm, I don’t have any villages to offer for you, sorry. However, I’ll tell you what I do in this sort of situation, because it’s exactly the sort of thing I deal with all the time.

For some reason, I just can’t write about a place until I have actually visited it, walked around the buildings, seen the people, taken note of the types of trees and flowers that are growing – ect, etc. I mean, I can read about the town in books and I can look it up on Google and everything, but somehow it’s not the same as actually standing there. To make this just a bit more difficult, I’m a borderline agoraphobic; I’ve only left the house on a few rare occasions in the past 30 years, and when I do leave the house, I can’t go alone and I can’t go very far. So, this results in some problems, since I can’t write about places I haven’t been, and I can’t leave my yard without a massive panic attack sending me back into my garden.

Well, when it comes to my books and stories, they are pretty much, almost always, set in a small coastal Maine town somewhat cut off from the rest of the world, by the ocean to one side and a forest to the other. Guess where I live? Yeah, in a small coastal Maine town somewhat cut off from the rest of the world, by the ocean to one side and a forest to the other. :)

Problem is, my stories are not always suited to my town. Sometimes I need a bigger town with a lot more bustle. Sometimes I need a smaller town, a lot more secluded. Sometimes I need the house to be a beach cabin right on the sand. Sometimes I need the house to be a castle on a rocky cliff battered by the shore. Sometimes I need a dense forest, sometimes a busy city. Sometimes I need deep dark caves. Sometimes I need sprawling swamplands. Sometimes I need huge deserted cemeteries. But no matter what I need, always is my story set in Old Orchard Beach, Maine, whither it has what I need or not. Always. Whither it’s an accurate description of the town or not, does not matter. I could give the town a different name, say Rockland, and suddenly I find I can not write about it anymore, even though it’s the same setting it was when I was calling it Old Orchard Beach! It’s the weirdest case of Writer’s Block I’ve ever heard of and I can’t explain, it, but it happens every time. If I don’t set my story in Old Orchard Beach, I just can’t write about it.

So, if you read my stories you’d think the real Old Orchard Beach was everything from a big city to a tiny fishing village, with beaches and mountains and thunder-holes and castles. You’d also think it was overrun with werewolves, vampires, phookas, faeries, aliens, ufos, serial killers, ghosts, haunted houses, morbidly depressed emo-goth Edwardian dudes, and psychotic sex crazed mermen. What is the real Old Orchard Beach? The real Old Orchard Beach is nothing like I write it as!

Here is the real Old Orchard Beach, the one I actually live in: When I was a kid, it was a tiny Victorian beach front township, complete with amusement park and a train station, cut off from the world by a 3000 acre forest. By the time I was a teen, out of state developers bought the forest, cut it down and put up skyscraper condos. Today, 30 years later, I live on the last farm, in the middle of the last 26 acre section of forest. There are no mountains or cliffs or castles. The Thunder Hole is real, but it’s not in Old Orchard Beach, it’s about 100 miles north of here, on the Canadian border. Old Orchard Beach had about 2,000 residents when I grew up, most of them farmers and rifle toting lobster men. Today there are 12,000 residents, most of them souvenir shop owners or hotel managers. Voted the World’s Finest Beach (scientifically – meaning it has the world’s tiniest grains of sand; not meaning it’s the best place to visit!) Old Orchard Beach, now gets an average of 2 million tourist visitors each and every summer. Our winters are cold, fierce, and last nearly 8 months, so our tourist season is VERY short, averaging 2 to 3 months. In the winter it is a virtual ghost town, with only a few thousand residents braving off the sub zero winter season. This town has grown and changed a lot over the years. It expanded and evolved. A hundred years ago, it was predominantly black, being a safe haven for escaped slaves, and most of the business owners and town council men were black (a rare thing in the early 1900′s). It’s most famous residents were the Jazz singers Louis Armstrong and Billy Holiday. . . I live 4 houses down from Louis Armstrong’s summer house, and am a 15 minute walk from The Pier (a casino 2 miles off shore and standing in the middle of the ocean) where both Louis and Billy got their start, and had concerts every Saturday night. Today the town is .0001% non-white! What a turn around! My town has a hell of a long history, since it was settled by my pirate great-great-great-great-great grandfather Thomas Rogers in 1657. The land I live on is the oldest in Maine to still be in it’s original family. (Very original, since he married a local Native American girl.)

So, now that I’ve told you all this, how does it help you and what was my point? My point is this – write what you know. It may seem that Lacock and Castle Combe are not just right for your story, but if you are writing fiction – what does it matter whither or not the real village is exactly perfect for your fictional one? So, Lacock is too big and Castle Combe is too small – so what? Combine the two, create a Castle Lacock of Combe instead – a village that combines the best of each and throws out the stuff you don’t need. Take what you know about these two villages and blend them together, and create a village that perfectly suites your needs, out of something you already know about. You will write it best, if you stick to writing what you know, and being a novelist, you can move buildings around to fit your story, you can take a mountain out of France and stick it in a Georgia swamp if you want to! (I grab mountains out of France and drop them smack in the middle of Old Orchard Beach, all the time. I also grab castles out of Scotland, caves out of Tennessee, trees from California, volcanoes from Oregon, and snowstorms out of the North Pole and stick them in Old Orchard Beach, too. Damn – half the time it seems like I’ve condensed the entire United States and squished it into my tiny 7 mile long by 2 mile wide home town!)

The point is, don’t feel that you have to write the village just exactly as it really is. You are a novelist after all – no one expects you to write an accurate travelogue – they expect you to tell a good story, set in a world that seems like the real world, but is a place they would rather be instead. I know it’s not exactly the answer you were looking for, and I don’t have any villages to offer to help you out with, but hopfully this will help you take the villages you like best and find a way to make them the village you are looking for.

Hope this helps you out some. I think all of that made sense – it made sense in my head at least. =/

Find Out More About My 2009 NaNoWriMo Project

What’s your take on this? I’d love to hear what you have to say about this post. Leave a comment and share your views!

———-
Editing and Drafts
Create a Fantasy Realm
Advice For NaNoWriters!
Creating Character Profiles
Are You A Renegade A Writer?
How To Become a Better Writer
The Top 5 Tools For NaNoWriMo
What Genre Is My Vampire Story?
Where Do You Get Your Ideas?
Improving your writing with what you read.
Have You Written Your Author’s Interview Yet?
How I Reached 50,000 in 30 Days and You Can Too!
———-

Thank You Kitty. . .Page copy protected against web site content infringement by Copyscape

————-

Blingo

>Some Thoughts on Writing About Real Places In Fictional Novels (A NaNoWriMo Post)

>
black birdfall leaves centerblack bird

Today while reading the NaNoWriMo forums, I ran across this question which inspired a rather long winded answer from me. The question and my answer to it follow:

What village is right to base my fictional one off?
I’ve got so much great research on villages, now I’m trying to find a village that seems right to kind of base it off, I feel like I need to for some reason, just put up with me!

I’m looking for the kind of architecture like Lacock and Castle Combe, but Lacock is too big of a village I’m looking for and Castle Combe is too small!

Not looking for coastal villages either, preferably in land.

Thanks in advance!

I’m afraid I’ve never heard of Lacock or Castle Combe, and I’ve no idea where they are in the world either. Uhm, I don’t have any villages to offer for you, sorry. However, I’ll tell you what I do in this sort of situation, because it’s exactly the sort of thing I deal with all the time.

For some reason, I just can’t write about a place until I have actually visited it, walked around the buildings, seen the people, taken note of the types of trees and flowers that are growing – ect, etc. I mean, I can read about the town in books and I can look it up on Google and everything, but somehow it’s not the same as actually standing there. To make this just a bit more difficult, I’m a borderline agoraphobic; I’ve only left the house on a few rare occasions in the past 30 years, and when I do leave the house, I can’t go alone and I can’t go very far. So, this results in some problems, since I can’t write about places I haven’t been, and I can’t leave my yard without a massive panic attack sending me back into my garden.

Well, when it comes to my books and stories, they are pretty much, almost always, set in a small coastal Maine town somewhat cut off from the rest of the world, by the ocean to one side and a forest to the other. Guess where I live? Yeah, in a small coastal Maine town somewhat cut off from the rest of the world, by the ocean to one side and a forest to the other. :)

Problem is, my stories are not always suited to my town. Sometimes I need a bigger town with a lot more bustle. Sometimes I need a smaller town, a lot more secluded. Sometimes I need the house to be a beach cabin right on the sand. Sometimes I need the house to be a castle on a rocky cliff battered by the shore. Sometimes I need a dense forest, sometimes a busy city. Sometimes I need deep dark caves. Sometimes I need sprawling swamplands. Sometimes I need huge deserted cemeteries. But no matter what I need, always is my story set in Old Orchard Beach, Maine, whither it has what I need or not. Always. Whither it’s an accurate description of the town or not, does not matter. I could give the town a different name, say Rockland, and suddenly I find I can not write about it anymore, even though it’s the same setting it was when I was calling it Old Orchard Beach! It’s the weirdest case of Writer’s Block I’ve ever heard of and I can’t explain, it, but it happens every time. If I don’t set my story in Old Orchard Beach, I just can’t write about it.

So, if you read my stories you’d think the real Old Orchard Beach was everything from a big city to a tiny fishing village, with beaches and mountains and thunder-holes and castles. You’d also think it was overrun with werewolves, vampires, phookas, faeries, aliens, ufos, serial killers, ghosts, haunted houses, morbidly depressed emo-goth Edwardian dudes, and psychotic sex crazed mermen. What is the real Old Orchard Beach? The real Old Orchard Beach is nothing like I write it as!

Here is the real Old Orchard Beach, the one I actually live in: When I was a kid, it was a tiny Victorian beach front township, complete with amusement park and a train station, cut off from the world by a 3000 acre forest. By the time I was a teen, out of state developers bought the forest, cut it down and put up skyscraper condos.

Today, 30 years later, I still live in Old Orchard Beach, I live on the last farm, in the middle of the last 26 acre section of forest. There are no mountains or cliffs or castles. The Thunder Hole is real, but it’s not in Old Orchard Beach, it’s about 100 miles north of here, on the Canadian border.

Old Orchard Beach had about 2,000 residents when I grew up, most of them farmers and rifle toting lobster men. Today there are 12,000 residents, most of them souvenir shop owners or hotel managers. Voted the World’s Finest Beach (scientifically – meaning it has the world’s tiniest grains of sand; not meaning it’s the best place to visit!) Old Orchard Beach, now gets an average of 2 million tourist visitors each and every summer.

Our winters are cold, fierce, and last nearly 8 months, so our tourist season is VERY short, averaging 2 to 3 months. In the winter it is a virtual ghost town, with only a few thousand residents braving off the sub zero winter season.

This town has grown and changed a lot over the years. It expanded and evolved. A hundred years ago, it was predominantly “Black”, being a safe haven for escaped slaves, and most of the business owners and town council men were Black (a rare thing in the early 1900′s). It’s most famous residents were the Jazz singers Louis Armstrong and Billy Holiday and writer E.E.Cummings. . . I live 4 houses down from Louis Armstrong’s summer house, which was owned by E.E.Cummings, and am a 15 minute walk from The Pier (a casino 2 miles off shore and standing in the middle of the ocean) where both Louis and Billy got their start, and had concerts every Saturday night. Today the town is .0001% non-white! What a turn around!

My town has a hell of a long history, since it was settled by my pirate great-great-great-great-great grandfather Thomas Rogers in 1657. The land I live on is the oldest in Maine to still be in it’s original family. (Very original, since he married a local Native American girl.)

So, now that I’ve told you all this, how does it help you and what was my point? My point is this – write what you know. It may seem that Lacock and Castle Combe are not just right for your story, but if you are writing fiction – what does it matter whither or not the real village is exactly perfect for your fictional one? So, Lacock is too big and Castle Combe is too small – so what? Combine the two, create a Castle Lacock of Combe instead – a village that combines the best of each and throws out the stuff you don’t need. Take what you know about these two villages and blend them together, and create a village that perfectly suites your needs, out of something you already know about. You will write it best, if you stick to writing what you know, and being a novelist, you can move buildings around to fit your story, you can take a mountain out of France and stick it in a Georgia swamp if you want to! (I grab mountains out of France and drop them smack in the middle of Old Orchard Beach, all the time. I also grab castles out of Scotland, caves out of Tennessee, trees from California, volcanoes from Oregon, and snowstorms out of the North Pole and stick them in Old Orchard Beach, too. Damn – half the time it seems like I’ve condensed the entire United States and squished it into my tiny 7 mile long by 2 mile wide home town!)

The point is, don’t feel that you have to write the village just exactly as it really is. You are a novelist after all – no one expects you to write an accurate travelogue – they expect you to tell a good story, set in a world that seems like the real world, but is a place they would rather be instead. I know it’s not exactly the answer you were looking for, and I don’t have any villages to offer to help you out with, but hopfully this will help you take the villages you like best and find a way to make them the village you are looking for.

Hope this helps you out some. I think all of that made sense – it made sense in my head at least. =/

Find Out More About My 2009 NaNoWriMo Project

What’s your take on this? I’d love to hear what you have to say about this post. Leave a comment and share your views!

———-
Editing and Drafts
Create a Fantasy Realm
Advice For NaNoWriters!
Creating Character Profiles
Are You A Renegade A Writer?
How To Become a Better Writer
The Top 5 Tools For NaNoWriMo
What Genre Is My Vampire Story?
Where Do You Get Your Ideas?
Improving your writing with what you read.
Have You Written Your Author’s Interview Yet?
How I Reached 50,000 in 30 Days and You Can Too!
———-

Thank You Kitty. . .Page copy protected against web site content infringement by Copyscape

————-

black birdfall leaves centerblack bird

Blingo

maybe I’m a gypsy and didn’t know it

black birdOld Orchard Beach Sea Shellsblack bird

A few days ago I was thinking that maybe my life is that of a monk or nun … some one responded to say they thought I was a reclusive hermit (this person knows me in person, so maybe they had a better point of view than most other people, thus giving a more accurate point of view?) Whatever. Anyways, I was just reading some posts across the net about gypsies (I was searching for info on how to build a gypsy wagon and got side tracked reading up on the history of gypsies instead!) and started wondering if maybe I have gypsy blood in me and that’s why I dress the way I do and have all these animals and live separate from the world and live off the land and am attracted to the idea of building a gypsy wagon. A few minutes ago I mentioned in a passing thought, not at all serious, as to wither or not I could be a gypsy and not know it. I am now rethinking the seriousness of that statement and asking quick seriously now: Is it possible I’m a gypsy and didn’t know it? If so, how would I go about finding out?

I was just reading and read a passage which said that “many gypsies (Roms) are of Scottish decent” . . . really? Is that true? How do I find out if that’s a true statement or not? Anyone know anything about this? I was joking when I said “maybe I’m a gypsy and didn’t know it”.

I can in fact trace my Scottish heritage back to the Picts, right on down through a whole bunch of Scottish, Indian, and Scottish-Indian witches (including my grandmother), wizards, socorors, hypnotists (including my grandfather), soothsayers, and fortune tellers.

Part of the reason local people accuse me of being a witch is because my family history is galloping with them — hundreds of them, going all the way back into the 1500′s. Being a witch is sort of a legacy for our family.

We are collectively known as the Royal Atwater Clan of the Scottish Highlands, even though none of us has lived in Scotland in over 200 years.

There is a trail named after us when our early Mormon ancestors followed Young out West. The Atwater clan WAS considered to be gypsies back than, which is why the Atwater Trail got named — so others would know not to take it and thus avoid contact with use evil Mormon Witches.

One of the first things you hear people say when passing me in public is: “Don’t go near her, she’s an Atwater you know. She’ll put a curse on you and you’ll be dead by morning.” One of the reasons I go by the name of EelKat instead of a full name is to avoid any “bad connections” with my Atwater ancestry.

Of course than there’s the other side of my family — also from Scotland, also mixed with Indians, also teaming with witches. The Ricker family of the Garden (aka Old Orchard Beach). My family founded The Garden in 1657. The Garden was renamed The Town of Old Orchard Beach in 1881. Up until the 1960′s the whole town was run by my family. They were sort of like the Marfia on a small scale. All that remains of the original Garden is the land at 146 Portland Ave on which now sits my “tent”. It is the oldest piece of land in New England to still be owned by it’s original family. 

Of all the questions, comments, and statements I get about my cloths and the “odd” way I dress, one of my favorites is: “What are you some sort of princess?” It’s always said in a tone of sarcasm, and my answer “Why, yes, in fact I am. I’m one of the last members of the Royal Atwater Clan of the Scottish Highlands”, always stuns them into silence. It’s not good to use sarcasm with me, for shoot sarcasm right back at you is something I excel in, only, unlike the question which was intended to hurt my feelings, the answer is always a blatant fact.

I don’t know. . . maybe I should build a gypsy wagon. Embrace my heritage. Than too, maybe I should take up witchcraft. Than people wouldn’t have to falsely accuse me of being a witch anymore. Than when they say: “Stay away from her she’s a witch!” and I could say:“Yes I am.”

I suppose it is my families history with this town, (both the Rickers and the Atwaters have a long history with OOB) which causes the new locals of today to want to drive me out of town.

When I was a kid we had a population of 2,000. Today OOB has a population of 12,000 year round residents and 2 million tourists. That’s a huge jump in just 20 years. I remember when Portland Ave was a dirt road and our farm was considered to be “waaaaay out back in the woods”. So much change in so little time. I don’t like it.

One of the high priests at church, often refers to my family as “The Gypsy Mafia”. I asked him why he calls us that, and his answer was: 

“You Atwaters are like a hive of bees. You fight amongst yourselves all the time, but when any one outside the family says anything the whole hive of you swam down on them. All 200 of you band together, and no one stands a chance against the entire clan. That’s why you are like a Mafia. The way your family — relatives of many generations — uncles, cousins, brothers, sisters, grand parents, in-laws, cousins three or four or more times removed — you are act like you are all brothers and sisters, no matter how many generations have passed, and even if you’ve never meet each other before! I’m sacred of you and your family. A lot of people around here are scared of you. Normal families don’t act like that. Normal families don’t even know the names of their distant relatives. Heck, normal families don’t even know who their first cousins are or if they even have first cousins! You people are crazy. You’re are like some sort of cult. I see your family and all I can think is that you are the Mafia. Only the Mafia have family relations like your family. Normal families don’t act like that.

And than there’s the way you all live. You live in the woods, most of your cousins live in cars in other people’s back yards. Your aunt has all 8 of her husbands living in tents on her front lawn. Look at you, your house burns down and what do you do? You put up a 10 foot tall cross and build a tent under it! Half of your relatives are homeless and most of them camp out in army tents in the middle of your garden year after year. Your family is not normal. You act like a pack of gypsies. You are gypsies. You are what the Mafia would be like if it was run by gypsies!”

Well, that’s my ever “deeply concerned” high priest, for you. But I must admit, my aunt does have 7 husbands (not 8) and they do live in tents on her lawn. One of my uncles owns a family compound and has more than 30 adults and 75 children, living in or around it — many generations of them (he did have 15 children after all). And yep, several of my uncles show up unannounced bringing wives and children and children and more children and put up army tents smack dab in the middle of our vegetable garden, and than stay for months (or years). But, they are family, and when family is in trouble, family is never turned away. That’s what families do — families take care of one another.

I am shocked at my high priest’s implication that “normal” families do not take care of each other, and if he is right and that is the way “normal” families live, than I want no part of it, cause if you don’t have family than you don’t have nothing!

But now, reading up on gypsies, I do see his point, cause we do sound like what I’m reading it saying that gypsies are, and I don’t know what a Mafia is, but I suppose if people keep saying we live like one (my high priest is not the only person who says so) than maybe we do.

So now I’m thinking very serious thoughts on the matter and wondering: Am I gypsy and never knew it? How would I find out? What exactly is it that makes a gypsy a gypsy anyways? Is it a race or is it a life style? I am reading conflicting view points on this matter.

What’s your take on this? I’d love to hear what you have to say about this post. Leave a comment and share your views!

Thank You Kitty. . .Page copy protected against web site content infringement by Copyscape

black birdOld Orchard Beach Sea Shellsblack bird

————-
If you liked reading this blog and want to read more stuff written by me, I have lots of websites, where you can read other things I write, here are a few of the ones I like the best:
Create your own banner at mybannermaker.com!.
Create your own banner at mybannermaker.com!.
Create your own banner at mybannermaker.com!
.

Blingo

maybe I’m a gypsy and didn’t know it

black birdOld Orchard Beach Sea Shellsblack bird

A few days ago I was thinking that maybe my life is that of a monk or nun … some one responded to say they thought I was a reclusive hermit (this person knows me in person, so maybe they had a better point of view than most other people, thus giving a more accurate point of view?) Whatever. Anyways, I was just reading some posts across the net about gypsies (I was searching for info on how to build a gypsy wagon and got side tracked reading up on the history of gypsies instead!) and started wondering if maybe I have gypsy blood in me and that’s why I dress the way I do and have all these animals and live separate from the world and live off the land and am attracted to the idea of building a gypsy wagon. A few minutes ago I mentioned in a passing thought, not at all serious, as to wither or not I could be a gypsy and not know it. I am now rethinking the seriousness of that statement and asking quick seriously now: Is it possible I’m a gypsy and didn’t know it? If so, how would I go about finding out?

I was just reading and read a passage which said that “many gypsies (Roms) are of Scottish decent” . . . really? Is that true? How do I find out if that’s a true statement or not? Anyone know anything about this? I was joking when I said “maybe I’m a gypsy and didn’t know it”.

I can in fact trace my Scottish heritage back to the Picts, right on down through a whole bunch of Scottish, Indian, and Scottish-Indian witches (including my grandmother), wizards, socorors, hypnotists (including my grandfather), soothsayers, and fortune tellers.

Part of the reason local people accuse me of being a witch is because my family history is galloping with them — hundreds of them, going all the way back into the 1500′s. Being a witch is sort of a legacy for our family.

We are collectively known as the Royal Atwater Clan of the Scottish Highlands, even though none of us has lived in Scotland in over 200 years.

There is a trail named after us when our early Mormon ancestors followed Young out West. The Atwater clan WAS considered to be gypsies back than, which is why the Atwater Trail got named — so others would know not to take it and thus avoid contact with use evil Mormon Witches.

One of the first things you hear people say when passing me in public is: “Don’t go near her, she’s an Atwater you know. She’ll put a curse on you and you’ll be dead by morning.” One of the reasons I go by the name of EelKat instead of a full name is to avoid any “bad connections” with my Atwater ancestry.

Of course than there’s the other side of my family — also from Scotland, also mixed with Indians, also teaming with witches. The Ricker family of the Garden (aka Old Orchard Beach). My family founded The Garden in 1657. The Garden was renamed The Town of Old Orchard Beach in 1881. Up until the 1960′s the whole town was run by my family. They were sort of like the Marfia on a small scale. All that remains of the original Garden is the land at 146 Portland Ave on which now sits my “tent”. It is the oldest piece of land in New England to still be owned by it’s original family. 

Of all the questions, comments, and statements I get about my cloths and the “odd” way I dress, one of my favorites is: “What are you some sort of princess?” It’s always said in a tone of sarcasm, and my answer “Why, yes, in fact I am. I’m one of the last members of the Royal Atwater Clan of the Scottish Highlands”, always stuns them into silence. It’s not good to use sarcasm with me, for shoot sarcasm right back at you is something I excel in, only, unlike the question which was intended to hurt my feelings, the answer is always a blatant fact.

I don’t know. . . maybe I should build a gypsy wagon. Embrace my heritage. Than too, maybe I should take up witchcraft. Than people wouldn’t have to falsely accuse me of being a witch anymore. Than when they say: “Stay away from her she’s a witch!” and I could say:“Yes I am.”

I suppose it is my families history with this town, (both the Rickers and the Atwaters have a long history with OOB) which causes the new locals of today to want to drive me out of town.

When I was a kid we had a population of 2,000. Today OOB has a population of 12,000 year round residents and 2 million tourists. That’s a huge jump in just 20 years. I remember when Portland Ave was a dirt road and our farm was considered to be “waaaaay out back in the woods”. So much change in so little time. I don’t like it.

One of the high priests at church, often refers to my family as “The Gypsy Mafia”. I asked him why he calls us that, and his answer was: 

“You Atwaters are like a hive of bees. You fight amongst yourselves all the time, but when any one outside the family says anything the whole hive of you swam down on them. All 200 of you band together, and no one stands a chance against the entire clan. That’s why you are like a Mafia. The way your family — relatives of many generations — uncles, cousins, brothers, sisters, grand parents, in-laws, cousins three or four or more times removed — you are act like you are all brothers and sisters, no matter how many generations have passed, and even if you’ve never meet each other before! I’m sacred of you and your family. A lot of people around here are scared of you. Normal families don’t act like that. Normal families don’t even know the names of their distant relatives. Heck, normal families don’t even know who their first cousins are or if they even have first cousins! You people are crazy. You’re are like some sort of cult. I see your family and all I can think is that you are the Mafia. Only the Mafia have family relations like your family. Normal families don’t act like that.

And than there’s the way you all live. You live in the woods, most of your cousins live in cars in other people’s back yards. Your aunt has all 8 of her husbands living in tents on her front lawn. Look at you, your house burns down and what do you do? You put up a 10 foot tall cross and build a tent under it! Half of your relatives are homeless and most of them camp out in army tents in the middle of your garden year after year. Your family is not normal. You act like a pack of gypsies. You are gypsies. You are what the Mafia would be like if it was run by gypsies!”

Well, that’s my ever “deeply concerned” high priest, for you. But I must admit, my aunt does have 7 husbands (not 8) and they do live in tents on her lawn. One of my uncles owns a family compound and has more than 30 adults and 75 children, living in or around it — many generations of them (he did have 15 children after all). And yep, several of my uncles show up unannounced bringing wives and children and children and more children and put up army tents smack dab in the middle of our vegetable garden, and than stay for months (or years). But, they are family, and when family is in trouble, family is never turned away. That’s what families do — families take care of one another.

I am shocked at my high priest’s implication that “normal” families do not take care of each other, and if he is right and that is the way “normal” families live, than I want no part of it, cause if you don’t have family than you don’t have nothing!

But now, reading up on gypsies, I do see his point, cause we do sound like what I’m reading it saying that gypsies are, and I don’t know what a Mafia is, but I suppose if people keep saying we live like one (my high priest is not the only person who says so) than maybe we do.

So now I’m thinking very serious thoughts on the matter and wondering: Am I gypsy and never knew it? How would I find out? What exactly is it that makes a gypsy a gypsy anyways? Is it a race or is it a life style? I am reading conflicting view points on this matter.

What’s your take on this? I’d love to hear what you have to say about this post. Leave a comment and share your views!

Thank You Kitty. . .Page copy protected against web site content infringement by Copyscape

black birdOld Orchard Beach Sea Shellsblack bird

————-
If you liked reading this blog and want to read more stuff written by me, I have lots of websites, where you can read other things I write, here are a few of the ones I like the best:
Create your own banner at mybannermaker.com!.
Create your own banner at mybannermaker.com!.
Create your own banner at mybannermaker.com!
.

Blingo

Still trying to find a way to put up a house.

black birdOld Orchard Beach Sea Shellsblack bird

I love this house boat! Reminds me of the house boat I had, but the town of Old Orchard Beach woun’t let me keep. :( I got it after they burnt down my house. It was an old house boat from the 40′s that I was going to fix up and live in. That was asfter they made me tear down the yurt I started building. :( . No house. No yurt. No house boat. That’s when I built the “tent” instead (http://www.squidoo.com/onbeinghomeless2 )

I love this gypsy wagon! So, yurts are illegal in Old Orchard, as are house boats (in a fishing village . . . house boats are illegal????) You can have campground type houses, thus the tent itself (a tarp over a wood pile) was legal in Old Orchard, as are RVs, which I can’t afford as I can’t find one for $200 or less. I wonder if a gypsy wagon could be called an old fashioned RV? It wouldn’t be very hard for me to build one.

you know . . . it wouldn’t be too hard for me the close in the Goldeneagle and turn it into a gypsy wagon. oooh! thoughts are flying! I’ve always wanted to get the Goldeneagle on the road again, but was thinking in terms of it running – driving, but what if I could get it moving by horse power instead?

I need a horse

A house barge would be nice! I know Old Orchard wouldn’t allow one of these. Can’t live in a house boat here. :(

Thinking on all this house issue stuff, seeing how the snow is finally gone, which means it’s time for me to fix the tent up for it’s third year of use. (I’m only “not homeless” in the winter when I stay with relatives during the heavy snow season). Summer is upon us and I’m not really looking forward to yet another year of “the tent”.
A Hobbit House! When I first built the “tent” I was planning one of these. Didn’t get very far though, because I hit ledge only a few inches down after I started digging. :( I wonder though, What if I changed my approach and built the dirt up instead of digging down into the hill? That could work. I could build a sod house in only a couple of days too, plus unlike the “tent” I could live in it year round.

I did have a tippi up for a while and loved living in that, it had much more room than the “tent” does, but it wasn’t very good at keeping out the rain and snow, thus the move to build “the tent” instead.

I really like the idea of a gypsy wagon. It’s closed in better, and is up off the ground, which means it’ll be warmer too. Too bad my horse died. :( If I still had my horse I could take to the road with a gypsy wagon, and not have to stay in one place.

I wonder how hard it would be to take 14 cats and 40 roosters on the road in a gypsy wagon? I suppose it wouldn’t be any harder than trying to live in a tent with them which I’m already doing. I remember a guy who did that back in the 70′s. He had a team of donkeys pulling the wagon, and a herd of goats behind him, and chicken crates on the roof. I think he was Amish. Anyone remember him?

You know . . . maybe I’m really a gypsy and didn’t know it, cause I’m really liking the idea of a gypsy wagon lifestyle. And my cloths do already scream witch . . . at least, people on the street tell me I’m dressed like a witch.

Reminds me of Toad in Winds in the Willows when he bought a “canary wagon”. I haven’t read that book since I was about 8 or 9 yeas old. I really liked Wind in the Willows. I should read it again.

I just remembered . . . I still have the frame for Thunder’s old horse trailer! I can use that to build a gypsy wagon with . . . or I could, if not for some high priest who cut down one of my giant pine trees and the tree (about 200 feet tall) is now laying on top of it. I need a chain saw so I can cut up the tree and get to the horse trailer.

I don’t have a problem with actually building a house. The problem I’m having is that I have no money to buy materials so I have to build with what I have already. I’m not sure I could build a sod house seeing as our land has so much ledge, I’d have to have the dirt brought in from someplace else and I can’t afford that. :( .

It’s depressing not having a house to live in, and knowing how to build several different types, but having no way to get the materials to build a single one of them.

Of course, there’s no guarantee that once I finally do get another house back up, that they won’t just burn it down again. I need to move away from these people, but I don’t see why I should leave my home, when my family has been here for over 300 years and the people trying to make me leave moved here in the last 10 years!

A sod house would be pretty burn proof though and I could plant a garden on the roof too!


“Whenever we spend money or play an active role in society, take time to consider the consequences of our actions. Buying a tank of fuel supports the violent occupation of the middle east, buying cheap clothes supports sweatshops and child labour, buying from transnational corporations funds the extraction of capital from poorer countries and the erosion of human rights.” ~Simon Saville

What’s your take on this? I’d love to hear what you have to say about this post. Leave a comment and share your views!

Thank You Kitty. . .Page copy protected against web site content infringement by Copyscape

black birdOld Orchard Beach Sea Shellsblack bird

————-
If you liked reading this blog and want to read more stuff written by me, I have lots of websites, where you can read other things I write, here are a few of the ones I like the best:
Create your own banner at mybannermaker.com!.
Create your own banner at mybannermaker.com!.
Create your own banner at mybannermaker.com!
.

Blingo

Still trying to find a way to put up a house.

black birdOld Orchard Beach Sea Shellsblack bird

I love this house boat! Reminds me of the house boat I had, but the town of Old Orchard Beach woun’t let me keep. :( I got it after they burnt down my house. It was an old house boat from the 40′s that I was going to fix up and live in. That was asfter they made me tear down the yurt I started building. :( . No house. No yurt. No house boat. That’s when I built the “tent” instead (http://www.squidoo.com/onbeinghomeless2 )

I love this gypsy wagon! So, yurts are illegal in Old Orchard, as are house boats (in a fishing village . . . house boats are illegal????) You can have campground type houses, thus the tent itself (a tarp over a wood pile) was legal in Old Orchard, as are RVs, which I can’t afford as I can’t find one for $200 or less. I wonder if a gypsy wagon could be called an old fashioned RV? It wouldn’t be very hard for me to build one.

you know . . . it wouldn’t be too hard for me the close in the Goldeneagle and turn it into a gypsy wagon. oooh! thoughts are flying! I’ve always wanted to get the Goldeneagle on the road again, but was thinking in terms of it running – driving, but what if I could get it moving by horse power instead?

I need a horse

A house barge would be nice! I know Old Orchard wouldn’t allow one of these. Can’t live in a house boat here. :(

Thinking on all this house issue stuff, seeing how the snow is finally gone, which means it’s time for me to fix the tent up for it’s third year of use. (I’m only “not homeless” in the winter when I stay with relatives during the heavy snow season). Summer is upon us and I’m not really looking forward to yet another year of “the tent”.
A Hobbit House! When I first built the “tent” I was planning one of these. Didn’t get very far though, because I hit ledge only a few inches down after I started digging. :( I wonder though, What if I changed my approach and built the dirt up instead of digging down into the hill? That could work. I could build a sod house in only a couple of days too, plus unlike the “tent” I could live in it year round.

I did have a tippi up for a while and loved living in that, it had much more room than the “tent” does, but it wasn’t very good at keeping out the rain and snow, thus the move to build “the tent” instead.

I really like the idea of a gypsy wagon. It’s closed in better, and is up off the ground, which means it’ll be warmer too. Too bad my horse died. :( If I still had my horse I could take to the road with a gypsy wagon, and not have to stay in one place.

I wonder how hard it would be to take 14 cats and 40 roosters on the road in a gypsy wagon? I suppose it wouldn’t be any harder than trying to live in a tent with them which I’m already doing. I remember a guy who did that back in the 70′s. He had a team of donkeys pulling the wagon, and a herd of goats behind him, and chicken crates on the roof. I think he was Amish. Anyone remember him?

You know . . . maybe I’m really a gypsy and didn’t know it, cause I’m really liking the idea of a gypsy wagon lifestyle. And my cloths do already scream witch . . . at least, people on the street tell me I’m dressed like a witch.

Reminds me of Toad in Winds in the Willows when he bought a “canary wagon”. I haven’t read that book since I was about 8 or 9 yeas old. I really liked Wind in the Willows. I should read it again.

I just remembered . . . I still have the frame for Thunder’s old horse trailer! I can use that to build a gypsy wagon with . . . or I could, if not for some high priest who cut down one of my giant pine trees and the tree (about 200 feet tall) is now laying on top of it. I need a chain saw so I can cut up the tree and get to the horse trailer.

I don’t have a problem with actually building a house. The problem I’m having is that I have no money to buy materials so I have to build with what I have already. I’m not sure I could build a sod house seeing as our land has so much ledge, I’d have to have the dirt brought in from someplace else and I can’t afford that. :( .

It’s depressing not having a house to live in, and knowing how to build several different types, but having no way to get the materials to build a single one of them.

Of course, there’s no guarantee that once I finally do get another house back up, that they won’t just burn it down again. I need to move away from these people, but I don’t see why I should leave my home, when my family has been here for over 300 years and the people trying to make me leave moved here in the last 10 years!

A sod house would be pretty burn proof though and I could plant a garden on the roof too!


“Whenever we spend money or play an active role in society, take time to consider the consequences of our actions. Buying a tank of fuel supports the violent occupation of the middle east, buying cheap clothes supports sweatshops and child labour, buying from transnational corporations funds the extraction of capital from poorer countries and the erosion of human rights.” ~Simon Saville

What’s your take on this? I’d love to hear what you have to say about this post. Leave a comment and share your views!

Thank You Kitty. . .Page copy protected against web site content infringement by Copyscape

black birdOld Orchard Beach Sea Shellsblack bird

————-
If you liked reading this blog and want to read more stuff written by me, I have lots of websites, where you can read other things I write, here are a few of the ones I like the best:
Create your own banner at mybannermaker.com!.
Create your own banner at mybannermaker.com!.
Create your own banner at mybannermaker.com!
.

Blingo

maybe I’m a gypsy and didn’t know it

A few days ago I was thinking that maybe my life is that of a monk or nun … some one responded to say they thought I was a reclusive hermit (this person knows me in person, so maybe they had a better point of view than most other people, thus giving a more accurate point of view?) Whatever. Anyways, I was just reading some posts across the net about gypsies (I was searching for info on how to build a gypsy wagon and got side tracked reading up on the history of gypsies instead!) and started wondering if maybe I have gypsy blood in me and that’s why I dress the way I do and have all these animals and live separate from the world and live off the land and am attracted to the idea of building a gypsy wagon. A few minutes ago I mentioned in a passing thought, not at all serious, as to wither or not I could be a gypsy and not know it. I am now rethinking the seriousness of that statement and asking quick seriously now: Is it possible I’m a gypsy and didn’t know it? If so, how would I go about finding out?

I was just reading and read a passage which said that “many gypsies (Roms) are of Scottish decent” . . . really? Is that true? How do I find out if that’s a true statement or not? Anyone know anything about this? I was joking when I said “maybe I’m a gypsy and didn’t know it”.

I can in fact trace my Scottish heritage back to the Picts, right on down through a whole bunch of Scottish, Indian, and Scottish-Indian witches (including my grandmother), wizards, socorors, hypnotists (including my grandfather), soothsayers, and fortune tellers.

Part of the reason local people accuse me of being a witch is because my family history is galloping with them — hundreds of them, going all the way back into the 1500′s. Being a witch is sort of a legacy for our family.

We are collectively known as the Royal Atwater Clan of the Scottish Highlands, even though none of us has lived in Scotland in over 200 years.

There is a trail named after us when our early Mormon ancestors followed Young out West. The Atwater clan WAS considered to be gypsies back than, which is why the Atwater Trail got named — so others would know not to take it and thus avoid contact with use evil Mormon Witches.

One of the first things you hear people say when passing me in public is: “Don’t go near her, she’s an Atwater you know. She’ll put a curse on you and you’ll be dead by morning.” One of the reasons I go by the name of EelKat instead of a full name is to avoid any “bad connections” with my Atwater ancestry.

Of course than there’s the other side of my family — also from Scotland, also mixed with Indians, also teaming with witches. The Ricker family of the Garden (aka Old Orchard Beach). My family founded The Garden in 1657. The Garden was renamed The Town of Old Orchard Beach in 1881. Up until the 1960′s the whole town was run by my family. They were sort of like the Marfia on a small scale. All that remains of the original Garden is the land at 146 Portland Ave on which now sits my “tent”. It is the oldest piece of land in New England to still be owned by it’s original family.

Of all the questions, comments, and statements I get about my cloths and the “odd” way I dress, one of my favorites is: “What are you some sort of princess?” It’s always said in a tone of sarcasm, and my answer “Why, yes, in fact I am. I’m one of the last members of the Royal Atwater Clan of the Scottish Highlands”, always stuns them into silence. It’s not good to use sarcasm with me, for shoot sarcasm right back at you is something I excel in, only, unlike the question which was intended to hurt my feelings, the answer is always a blatant fact.

I don’t know. . . maybe I should build a gypsy wagon. Embrace my heritage. Than too, maybe I should take up witchcraft. Than people wouldn’t have to falsely accuse me of being a witch anymore. Than when they say: “Stay away from her she’s a witch!” and I could say: “Yes I am.”

I suppose it is my families history with this town, (both the Rickers and the Atwaters have a long history with OOB) which causes the new locals of today to want to drive me out of town.

When I was a kid we had a population of 2,000. Today OOB has a population of 12,000 year round residents and 2 million tourists. That’s a huge jump in just 20 years. I remember when Portland Ave was a dirt road and our farm was considered to be “waaaaay out back in the woods”. So much change in so little time. I don’t like it.

One of the high priests at church, often refers to my family as “The Gypsy Mafia”. I asked him why he calls us that, and his answer was:

“You Atwaters are like a hive of bees. You fight amongst yourselves all the time, but when any one outside the family says anything the whole hive of you swam down on them. All 200 of you band together, and no one stands a chance against the entire clan. That’s why you are like a Mafia. The way your family — relatives of many generations — uncles, cousins, brothers, sisters, grand parents, in-laws, cousins three or four or more times removed — you are act like you are all brothers and sisters, no matter how many generations have passed, and even if you’ve never meet each other before! I’m sacred of you and your family. A lot of people around here are scared of you. Normal families don’t act like that. Normal families don’t even know the names of their distant relatives. Heck, normal families don’t even know who their first cousins are or if they even have first cousins! You people are crazy. You’re are like some sort of cult. I see your family and all I can think is that you are the Mafia. Only the Mafia have family relations like your family. Normal families don’t act like that.

And than there’s the way you all live. You live in the woods, most of your cousins live in cars in other people’s back yards. Your aunt has all 8 of her husbands living in tents on her front lawn. Look at you, your house burns down and what do you do? You put up a 10 foot tall cross and build a tent under it! Half of your relatives are homeless and most of them camp out in army tents in the middle of your garden year after year. Your family is not normal. You act like a pack of gypsies. You are gypsies. You are what the Mafia would be like if it was run by gypsies!”

Well, that’s my ever “deeply concerned” high priest, for you. But I must admit, my aunt does have 7 husbands (not 8) and they do live in tents on her lawn. One of my uncles owns a family compound and has more than 30 adults and 75 children, living in or around it — many generations of them (he did have 15 children after all). And yep, several of my uncles show up unannounced bringing wives and children and children and more children and put up army tents smack dab in the middle of our vegetable garden, and than stay for months (or years). But, they are family, and when family is in trouble, family is never turned away. That’s what families do — families take care of one another.

I am shocked at my high priest’s implication that “normal” families do not take care of each other, and if he is right and that is the way “normal” families live, than I want no part of it, cause if you don’t have family than you don’t have nothing!

But now, reading up on gypsies, I do see his point, cause we do sound like what I’m reading it saying that gypsies are, and I don’t know what a Mafia is, but I suppose if people keep saying we live like one (my high priest is not the only person who says so) than maybe we do.

So now I’m thinking very serious thoughts on the matter and wondering: Am I gypsy and never knew it? How would I find out? What exactly is it that makes a gypsy a gypsy anyways? Is it a race or is it a life style? I am reading conflicting view points on this matter.

What’s your take on this? I’d love to hear what you have to say about this post. Leave a comment and share your views!

Thank You Kitty. . .Page copy protected against web site content infringement by Copyscape

————-
If you liked reading this blog and want to read more stuff written by me, I have lots of websites, where you can read other things I write, here are a few of the ones I like the best:
Create your own banner at mybannermaker.com!.
Create your own banner at mybannermaker.com!.
Create your own banner at mybannermaker.com!
.

Blingo

Shop the Star Trek Store Today!
Your Favorite Characters Are At CartoonNetworkShop.com!

>maybe I’m a gypsy and didn’t know it

>
black birdfall leaves centerblack bird

A few days ago I was thinking that maybe my life is that of a monk or nun … some one responded to say they thought I was a reclusive hermit (this person knows me in person, so maybe they had a better point of view than most other people, thus giving a more accurate point of view?) Whatever. Anyways, I was just reading some posts across the net about gypsies (I was searching for info on how to build a gypsy wagon and got side tracked reading up on the history of gypsies instead!) and started wondering if maybe I have gypsy blood in me and that’s why I dress the way I do and have all these animals and live separate from the world and live off the land and am attracted to the idea of building a gypsy wagon. A few minutes ago I mentioned in a passing thought, not at all serious, as to wither or not I could be a gypsy and not know it. I am now rethinking the seriousness of that statement and asking quick seriously now: Is it possible I’m a gypsy and didn’t know it? If so, how would I go about finding out?

I was just reading and read a passage which said that “many gypsies (Roms) are of Scottish decent” . . . really? Is that true? How do I find out if that’s a true statement or not? Anyone know anything about this? I was joking when I said “maybe I’m a gypsy and didn’t know it”.

I can in fact trace my Scottish heritage back to the Picts, right on down through a whole bunch of Scottish, Indian, and Scottish-Indian witches (including my grandmother), wizards, socorors, hypnotists (including my grandfather), soothsayers, and fortune tellers.

Part of the reason local people accuse me of being a witch is because my family history is galloping with them — hundreds of them, going all the way back into the 1500′s. Being a witch is sort of a legacy for our family.

We are collectively known as the Royal Atwater Clan of the Scottish Highlands, even though none of us has lived in Scotland in over 200 years.

There is a trail named after us when our early Mormon ancestors followed Young out West. The Atwater clan WAS considered to be gypsies back than, which is why the Atwater Trail got named — so others would know not to take it and thus avoid contact with use evil Mormon Witches.

One of the first things you hear people say when passing me in public is: “Don’t go near her, she’s an Atwater you know. She’ll put a curse on you and you’ll be dead by morning.” One of the reasons I go by the name of EelKat instead of a full name is to avoid any “bad connections” with my Atwater ancestry.

Of course than there’s the other side of my family — also from Scotland, also mixed with Indians, also teaming with witches. The Ricker family of the Garden (aka Old Orchard Beach). My family founded The Garden in 1657. The Garden was renamed The Town of Old Orchard Beach in 1881. Up until the 1960′s the whole town was run by my family. They were sort of like the Marfia on a small scale. All that remains of the original Garden is the land at 146 Portland Ave on which now sits my “tent”. It is the oldest piece of land in New England to still be owned by it’s original family.

Of all the questions, comments, and statements I get about my cloths and the “odd” way I dress, one of my favorites is: “What are you some sort of princess?” It’s always said in a tone of sarcasm, and my answer “Why, yes, in fact I am. I’m one of the last members of the Royal Atwater Clan of the Scottish Highlands”, always stuns them into silence. It’s not good to use sarcasm with me, for shoot sarcasm right back at you is something I excel in, only, unlike the question which was intended to hurt my feelings, the answer is always a blatant fact.

I don’t know. . . maybe I should build a gypsy wagon. Embrace my heritage. Than too, maybe I should take up witchcraft. Than people wouldn’t have to falsely accuse me of being a witch anymore. Than when they say: “Stay away from her she’s a witch!” and I could say: “Yes I am.”

I suppose it is my families history with this town, (both the Rickers and the Atwaters have a long history with OOB) which causes the new locals of today to want to drive me out of town.

When I was a kid we had a population of 2,000. Today OOB has a population of 12,000 year round residents and 2 million tourists. That’s a huge jump in just 20 years. I remember when Portland Ave was a dirt road and our farm was considered to be “waaaaay out back in the woods”. So much change in so little time. I don’t like it.

One of the high priests at church, often refers to my family as “The Gypsy Mafia”. I asked him why he calls us that, and his answer was:

“You Atwaters are like a hive of bees. You fight amongst yourselves all the time, but when any one outside the family says anything the whole hive of you swam down on them. All 200 of you band together, and no one stands a chance against the entire clan. That’s why you are like a Mafia. The way your family — relatives of many generations — uncles, cousins, brothers, sisters, grand parents, in-laws, cousins three or four or more times removed — you are act like you are all brothers and sisters, no matter how many generations have passed, and even if you’ve never meet each other before! I’m sacred of you and your family. A lot of people around here are scared of you. Normal families don’t act like that. Normal families don’t even know the names of their distant relatives. Heck, normal families don’t even know who their first cousins are or if they even have first cousins! You people are crazy. You’re are like some sort of cult. I see your family and all I can think is that you are the Mafia. Only the Mafia have family relations like your family. Normal families don’t act like that.

And than there’s the way you all live. You live in the woods, most of your cousins live in cars in other people’s back yards. Your aunt has all 8 of her husbands living in tents on her front lawn. Look at you, your house burns down and what do you do? You put up a 10 foot tall cross and build a tent under it! Half of your relatives are homeless and most of them camp out in army tents in the middle of your garden year after year. Your family is not normal. You act like a pack of gypsies. You are gypsies. You are what the Mafia would be like if it was run by gypsies!”

Well, that’s my ever “deeply concerned” high priest, for you. But I must admit, my aunt does have 7 husbands (not 8) and they do live in tents on her lawn. One of my uncles owns a family compound and has more than 30 adults and 75 children, living in or around it — many generations of them (he did have 15 children after all). And yep, several of my uncles show up unannounced bringing wives and children and children and more children and put up army tents smack dab in the middle of our vegetable garden, and than stay for months (or years). But, they are family, and when family is in trouble, family is never turned away. That’s what families do — families take care of one another.

I am shocked at my high priest’s implication that “normal” families do not take care of each other, and if he is right and that is the way “normal” families live, than I want no part of it, cause if you don’t have family than you don’t have nothing!

But now, reading up on gypsies, I do see his point, cause we do sound like what I’m reading it saying that gypsies are, and I don’t know what a Mafia is, but I suppose if people keep saying we live like one (my high priest is not the only person who says so) than maybe we do.

So now I’m thinking very serious thoughts on the matter and wondering: Am I gypsy and never knew it? How would I find out? What exactly is it that makes a gypsy a gypsy anyways? Is it a race or is it a life style? I am reading conflicting view points on this matter.

What’s your take on this? I’d love to hear what you have to say about this post. Leave a comment and share your views!

Thank You Kitty. . .Page copy protected against web site content infringement by Copyscape

————-
If you liked reading this blog and want to read more stuff written by me, I have lots of websites, where you can read other things I write, here are a few of the ones I like the best:
Create your own banner at mybannermaker.com!.
Create your own banner at mybannermaker.com!.
Create your own banner at mybannermaker.com!
.

black birdfall leaves centerblack bird

Blingo

Shop the Star Trek Store Today!
Your Favorite Characters Are At CartoonNetworkShop.com!

maybe I’m a gypsy and didn’t know it

black birdfall leaves centerblack bird

A few days ago I was thinking that maybe my life is that of a monk or nun … some one responded to say they thought I was a reclusive hermit (this person knows me in person, so maybe they had a better point of view than most other people, thus giving a more accurate point of view?) Whatever. Anyways, I was just reading some posts across the net about gypsies (I was searching for info on how to build a gypsy wagon and got side tracked reading up on the history of gypsies instead!) and started wondering if maybe I have gypsy blood in me and that’s why I dress the way I do and have all these animals and live separate from the world and live off the land and am attracted to the idea of building a gypsy wagon. A few minutes ago I mentioned in a passing thought, not at all serious, as to wither or not I could be a gypsy and not know it. I am now rethinking the seriousness of that statement and asking quick seriously now: Is it possible I’m a gypsy and didn’t know it? If so, how would I go about finding out?

I was just reading and read a passage which said that “many gypsies (Roms) are of Scottish decent” . . . really? Is that true? How do I find out if that’s a true statement or not? Anyone know anything about this? I was joking when I said “maybe I’m a gypsy and didn’t know it”.

I can in fact trace my Scottish heritage back to the Picts, right on down through a whole bunch of Scottish, Indian, and Scottish-Indian witches (including my grandmother), wizards, socorors, hypnotists (including my grandfather), soothsayers, and fortune tellers.

Part of the reason local people accuse me of being a witch is because my family history is galloping with them — hundreds of them, going all the way back into the 1500′s. Being a witch is sort of a legacy for our family.

We are collectively known as the Royal Atwater Clan of the Scottish Highlands, even though none of us has lived in Scotland in over 200 years.

There is a trail named after us when our early Mormon ancestors followed Young out West. The Atwater clan WAS considered to be gypsies back than, which is why the Atwater Trail got named — so others would know not to take it and thus avoid contact with use evil Mormon Witches.

One of the first things you hear people say when passing me in public is: “Don’t go near her, she’s an Atwater you know. She’ll put a curse on you and you’ll be dead by morning.” One of the reasons I go by the name of EelKat instead of a full name is to avoid any “bad connections” with my Atwater ancestry.

Of course than there’s the other side of my family — also from Scotland, also mixed with Indians, also teaming with witches. The Ricker family of the Garden (aka Old Orchard Beach). My family founded The Garden in 1657. The Garden was renamed The Town of Old Orchard Beach in 1881. Up until the 1960′s the whole town was run by my family. They were sort of like the Marfia on a small scale. All that remains of the original Garden is the land at 146 Portland Ave on which now sits my “tent”. It is the oldest piece of land in New England to still be owned by it’s original family.

Of all the questions, comments, and statements I get about my cloths and the “odd” way I dress, one of my favorites is: “What are you some sort of princess?” It’s always said in a tone of sarcasm, and my answer “Why, yes, in fact I am. I’m one of the last members of the Royal Atwater Clan of the Scottish Highlands”, always stuns them into silence. It’s not good to use sarcasm with me, for shoot sarcasm right back at you is something I excel in, only, unlike the question which was intended to hurt my feelings, the answer is always a blatant fact.

I don’t know. . . maybe I should build a gypsy wagon. Embrace my heritage. Than too, maybe I should take up witchcraft. Than people wouldn’t have to falsely accuse me of being a witch anymore. Than when they say: “Stay away from her she’s a witch!” and I could say: “Yes I am.”

I suppose it is my families history with this town, (both the Rickers and the Atwaters have a long history with OOB) which causes the new locals of today to want to drive me out of town.

When I was a kid we had a population of 2,000. Today OOB has a population of 12,000 year round residents and 2 million tourists. That’s a huge jump in just 20 years. I remember when Portland Ave was a dirt road and our farm was considered to be “waaaaay out back in the woods”. So much change in so little time. I don’t like it.

One of the high priests at church, often refers to my family as “The Gypsy Mafia”. I asked him why he calls us that, and his answer was:

“You Atwaters are like a hive of bees. You fight amongst yourselves all the time, but when any one outside the family says anything the whole hive of you swam down on them. All 200 of you band together, and no one stands a chance against the entire clan. That’s why you are like a Mafia. The way your family — relatives of many generations — uncles, cousins, brothers, sisters, grand parents, in-laws, cousins three or four or more times removed — you are act like you are all brothers and sisters, no matter how many generations have passed, and even if you’ve never meet each other before! I’m sacred of you and your family. A lot of people around here are scared of you. Normal families don’t act like that. Normal families don’t even know the names of their distant relatives. Heck, normal families don’t even know who their first cousins are or if they even have first cousins! You people are crazy. You’re are like some sort of cult. I see your family and all I can think is that you are the Mafia. Only the Mafia have family relations like your family. Normal families don’t act like that.

And than there’s the way you all live. You live in the woods, most of your cousins live in cars in other people’s back yards. Your aunt has all 8 of her husbands living in tents on her front lawn. Look at you, your house burns down and what do you do? You put up a 10 foot tall cross and build a tent under it! Half of your relatives are homeless and most of them camp out in army tents in the middle of your garden year after year. Your family is not normal. You act like a pack of gypsies. You are gypsies. You are what the Mafia would be like if it was run by gypsies!”

Well, that’s my ever “deeply concerned” high priest, for you. But I must admit, my aunt does have 7 husbands (not 8) and they do live in tents on her lawn. One of my uncles owns a family compound and has more than 30 adults and 75 children, living in or around it — many generations of them (he did have 15 children after all). And yep, several of my uncles show up unannounced bringing wives and children and children and more children and put up army tents smack dab in the middle of our vegetable garden, and than stay for months (or years). But, they are family, and when family is in trouble, family is never turned away. That’s what families do — families take care of one another.

I am shocked at my high priest’s implication that “normal” families do not take care of each other, and if he is right and that is the way “normal” families live, than I want no part of it, cause if you don’t have family than you don’t have nothing!

But now, reading up on gypsies, I do see his point, cause we do sound like what I’m reading it saying that gypsies are, and I don’t know what a Mafia is, but I suppose if people keep saying we live like one (my high priest is not the only person who says so) than maybe we do.

So now I’m thinking very serious thoughts on the matter and wondering: Am I gypsy and never knew it? How would I find out? What exactly is it that makes a gypsy a gypsy anyways? Is it a race or is it a life style? I am reading conflicting view points on this matter.

What’s your take on this? I’d love to hear what you have to say about this post. Leave a comment and share your views!

Thank You Kitty. . .Page copy protected against web site content infringement by Copyscape

————-
If you liked reading this blog and want to read more stuff written by me, I have lots of websites, where you can read other things I write, here are a few of the ones I like the best:
Create your own banner at mybannermaker.com!.
Create your own banner at mybannermaker.com!.
Create your own banner at mybannermaker.com!
.

black birdfall leaves centerblack bird

Blingo

Shop the Star Trek Store Today!
Your Favorite Characters Are At CartoonNetworkShop.com!

Still trying to find a way to put up a house.

I love this house boat! Reminds me of the house boat I had, but the town of Old Orchard Beach woun’t let me keep. :( I got it after they burnt down my house. It was an old house boat from the 40′s that I was going to fix up and live in. That was asfter they made me tear down the yurt I started building. :( . No house. No yurt. No house boat. That’s when I built the “tent” instead ( http://www.squidoo.com/onbeinghomeless2 )

I love this gypsy wagon! So, yurts are illegal in Old Orchard, as are house boats (in a fishing village . . . house boats are illegal????) You can have campground type houses, thus the tent itself (a tarp over a wood pile) was legal in Old Orchard, as are RVs, which I can’t afford as I can’t find one for $200 or less. I wonder if a gypsy wagon could be called an old fashioned RV? It wouldn’t be very hard for me to build one.

you know . . . it wouldn’t be too hard for me the close in the Goldeneagle and turn it into a gypsy wagon. oooh! thoughts are flying! I’ve always wanted to get the Goldeneagle on the road again, but was thinking in terms of it running – driving, but what if I could get it moving by horse power instead?

I need a horse

A house barge would be nice! I know Old Orchard wouldn’t allow one of these. Can’t live in a house boat here. :(

Thinking on all this house issue stuff, seeing how the snow is finally gone, which means it’s time for me to fix the tent up for it’s third year of use. (I’m only “not homeless” in the winter when I stay with relatives during the heavy snow season). Summer is upon us and I’m not really looking forward to yet another year of “the tent”.
A Hobbit House! When I first built the “tent” I was planning one of these. Didn’t get very far though, because I hit ledge only a few inches down after I started digging. :( I wonder though, What if I changed my approach and built the dirt up instead of digging down into the hill? That could work. I could build a sod house in only a couple of days too, plus unlike the “tent” I could live in it year round.

I did have a tippi up for a while and loved living in that, it had much more room than the “tent” does, but it wasn’t very good at keeping out the rain and snow, thus the move to build “the tent” instead.

I really like the idea of a gypsy wagon. It’s closed in better, and is up off the ground, which means it’ll be warmer too. Too bad my horse died. :( If I still had my horse I could take to the road with a gypsy wagon, and not have to stay in one place.

I wonder how hard it would be to take 14 cats and 40 roosters on the road in a gypsy wagon? I suppose it wouldn’t be any harder than trying to live in a tent with them which I’m already doing. I remember a guy who did that back in the 70′s. He had a team of donkeys pulling the wagon, and a herd of goats behind him, and chicken crates on the roof. I think he was Amish. Anyone remember him?

You know . . . maybe I’m really a gypsy and didn’t know it, cause I’m really liking the idea of a gypsy wagon lifestyle. And my cloths do already scream witch . . . at least, people on the street tell me I’m dressed like a witch.

Reminds me of Toad in Winds in the Willows when he bought a “canary wagon”. I haven’t read that book since I was about 8 or 9 yeas old. I really liked Wind in the Willows. I should read it again.

I just remembered . . . I still have the frame for Thunder’s old horse trailer! I can use that to build a gypsy wagon with . . . or I could, if not for some high priest who cut down one of my giant pine trees and the tree (about 200 feet tall) is now laying on top of it. I need a chain saw so I can cut up the tree and get to the horse trailer.

I don’t have a problem with actually building a house. The problem I’m having is that I have no money to buy materials so I have to build with what I have already. I’m not sure I could build a sod house seeing as our land has so much ledge, I’d have to have the dirt brought in from someplace else and I can’t afford that. :( .

It’s depressing not having a house to live in, and knowing how to build several different types, but having no way to get the materials to build a single one of them.

Of course, there’s no guarantee that once I finally do get another house back up, that they won’t just burn it down again. I need to move away from these people, but I don’t see why I should leave my home, when my family has been here for over 300 years and the people trying to make me leave moved here in the last 10 years!

A sod house would be pretty burn proof though and I could plant a garden on the roof too!

“Whenever we spend money or play an active role in society, take time to consider the consequences of our actions. Buying a tank of fuel supports the violent occupation of the middle east, buying cheap clothes supports sweatshops and child labour, buying from transnational corporations funds the extraction of capital from poorer countries and the erosion of human rights.” ~Simon Saville

What’s your take on this? I’d love to hear what you have to say about this post. Leave a comment and share your views!

Thank You Kitty. . .Page copy protected against web site content infringement by Copyscape

————-
If you liked reading this blog and want to read more stuff written by me, I have lots of websites, where you can read other things I write, here are a few of the ones I like the best:
Create your own banner at mybannermaker.com!.
Create your own banner at mybannermaker.com!.
Create your own banner at mybannermaker.com!
.

Blingo

Shop the Star Trek Store Today!
Your Favorite Characters Are At CartoonNetworkShop.com!

>Still trying to find a way to put up a house.

>
black birdfall leaves centerblack bird

I love this house boat! Reminds me of the house boat I had, but the town of Old Orchard Beach woun’t let me keep. :( I got it after they burnt down my house. It was an old house boat from the 40′s that I was going to fix up and live in. That was asfter they made me tear down the yurt I started building. :( . No house. No yurt. No house boat. That’s when I built the “tent” instead ( http://www.squidoo.com/onbeinghomeless2 )

I love this gypsy wagon! So, yurts are illegal in Old Orchard, as are house boats (in a fishing village . . . house boats are illegal????) You can have campground type houses, thus the tent itself (a tarp over a wood pile) was legal in Old Orchard, as are RVs, which I can’t afford as I can’t find one for $200 or less. I wonder if a gypsy wagon could be called an old fashioned RV? It wouldn’t be very hard for me to build one.

you know . . . it wouldn’t be too hard for me the close in the Goldeneagle and turn it into a gypsy wagon. oooh! thoughts are flying! I’ve always wanted to get the Goldeneagle on the road again, but was thinking in terms of it running – driving, but what if I could get it moving by horse power instead?

I need a horse

A house barge would be nice! I know Old Orchard wouldn’t allow one of these. Can’t live in a house boat here. :(

Thinking on all this house issue stuff, seeing how the snow is finally gone, which means it’s time for me to fix the tent up for it’s third year of use. (I’m only “not homeless” in the winter when I stay with relatives during the heavy snow season). Summer is upon us and I’m not really looking forward to yet another year of “the tent”.
A Hobbit House! When I first built the “tent” I was planning one of these. Didn’t get very far though, because I hit ledge only a few inches down after I started digging. :( I wonder though, What if I changed my approach and built the dirt up instead of digging down into the hill? That could work. I could build a sod house in only a couple of days too, plus unlike the “tent” I could live in it year round.

I did have a tippi up for a while and loved living in that, it had much more room than the “tent” does, but it wasn’t very good at keeping out the rain and snow, thus the move to build “the tent” instead.

I really like the idea of a gypsy wagon. It’s closed in better, and is up off the ground, which means it’ll be warmer too. Too bad my horse died. :( If I still had my horse I could take to the road with a gypsy wagon, and not have to stay in one place.

I wonder how hard it would be to take 14 cats and 40 roosters on the road in a gypsy wagon? I suppose it wouldn’t be any harder than trying to live in a tent with them which I’m already doing. I remember a guy who did that back in the 70′s. He had a team of donkeys pulling the wagon, and a herd of goats behind him, and chicken crates on the roof. I think he was Amish. Anyone remember him?

You know . . . maybe I’m really a gypsy and didn’t know it, cause I’m really liking the idea of a gypsy wagon lifestyle. And my cloths do already scream witch . . . at least, people on the street tell me I’m dressed like a witch.

Reminds me of Toad in Winds in the Willows when he bought a “canary wagon”. I haven’t read that book since I was about 8 or 9 yeas old. I really liked Wind in the Willows. I should read it again.

I just remembered . . . I still have the frame for Thunder’s old horse trailer! I can use that to build a gypsy wagon with . . . or I could, if not for some high priest who cut down one of my giant pine trees and the tree (about 200 feet tall) is now laying on top of it. I need a chain saw so I can cut up the tree and get to the horse trailer.

I don’t have a problem with actually building a house. The problem I’m having is that I have no money to buy materials so I have to build with what I have already. I’m not sure I could build a sod house seeing as our land has so much ledge, I’d have to have the dirt brought in from someplace else and I can’t afford that. :( .

It’s depressing not having a house to live in, and knowing how to build several different types, but having no way to get the materials to build a single one of them.

Of course, there’s no guarantee that once I finally do get another house back up, that they won’t just burn it down again. I need to move away from these people, but I don’t see why I should leave my home, when my family has been here for over 300 years and the people trying to make me leave moved here in the last 10 years!

A sod house would be pretty burn proof though and I could plant a garden on the roof too!

“Whenever we spend money or play an active role in society, take time to consider the consequences of our actions. Buying a tank of fuel supports the violent occupation of the middle east, buying cheap clothes supports sweatshops and child labour, buying from transnational corporations funds the extraction of capital from poorer countries and the erosion of human rights.” ~Simon Saville

What’s your take on this? I’d love to hear what you have to say about this post. Leave a comment and share your views!

Thank You Kitty. . .Page copy protected against web site content infringement by Copyscape

————-
If you liked reading this blog and want to read more stuff written by me, I have lots of websites, where you can read other things I write, here are a few of the ones I like the best:
Create your own banner at mybannermaker.com!.
Create your own banner at mybannermaker.com!.
Create your own banner at mybannermaker.com!
.

black birdfall leaves centerblack bird

Blingo

Shop the Star Trek Store Today!
Your Favorite Characters Are At CartoonNetworkShop.com!

Still trying to find a way to put up a house.

black birdfall leaves centerblack bird

I love this house boat! Reminds me of the house boat I had, but the town of Old Orchard Beach woun’t let me keep. :( I got it after they burnt down my house. It was an old house boat from the 40′s that I was going to fix up and live in. That was asfter they made me tear down the yurt I started building. :( . No house. No yurt. No house boat. That’s when I built the “tent” instead ( http://www.squidoo.com/onbeinghomeless2 )

I love this gypsy wagon! So, yurts are illegal in Old Orchard, as are house boats (in a fishing village . . . house boats are illegal????) You can have campground type houses, thus the tent itself (a tarp over a wood pile) was legal in Old Orchard, as are RVs, which I can’t afford as I can’t find one for $200 or less. I wonder if a gypsy wagon could be called an old fashioned RV? It wouldn’t be very hard for me to build one.

you know . . . it wouldn’t be too hard for me the close in the Goldeneagle and turn it into a gypsy wagon. oooh! thoughts are flying! I’ve always wanted to get the Goldeneagle on the road again, but was thinking in terms of it running – driving, but what if I could get it moving by horse power instead?

I need a horse

A house barge would be nice! I know Old Orchard wouldn’t allow one of these. Can’t live in a house boat here. :(

Thinking on all this house issue stuff, seeing how the snow is finally gone, which means it’s time for me to fix the tent up for it’s third year of use. (I’m only “not homeless” in the winter when I stay with relatives during the heavy snow season). Summer is upon us and I’m not really looking forward to yet another year of “the tent”.
A Hobbit House! When I first built the “tent” I was planning one of these. Didn’t get very far though, because I hit ledge only a few inches down after I started digging. :( I wonder though, What if I changed my approach and built the dirt up instead of digging down into the hill? That could work. I could build a sod house in only a couple of days too, plus unlike the “tent” I could live in it year round.

I did have a tippi up for a while and loved living in that, it had much more room than the “tent” does, but it wasn’t very good at keeping out the rain and snow, thus the move to build “the tent” instead.

I really like the idea of a gypsy wagon. It’s closed in better, and is up off the ground, which means it’ll be warmer too. Too bad my horse died. :( If I still had my horse I could take to the road with a gypsy wagon, and not have to stay in one place.

I wonder how hard it would be to take 14 cats and 40 roosters on the road in a gypsy wagon? I suppose it wouldn’t be any harder than trying to live in a tent with them which I’m already doing. I remember a guy who did that back in the 70′s. He had a team of donkeys pulling the wagon, and a herd of goats behind him, and chicken crates on the roof. I think he was Amish. Anyone remember him?

You know . . . maybe I’m really a gypsy and didn’t know it, cause I’m really liking the idea of a gypsy wagon lifestyle. And my cloths do already scream witch . . . at least, people on the street tell me I’m dressed like a witch.

Reminds me of Toad in Winds in the Willows when he bought a “canary wagon”. I haven’t read that book since I was about 8 or 9 yeas old. I really liked Wind in the Willows. I should read it again.

I just remembered . . . I still have the frame for Thunder’s old horse trailer! I can use that to build a gypsy wagon with . . . or I could, if not for some high priest who cut down one of my giant pine trees and the tree (about 200 feet tall) is now laying on top of it. I need a chain saw so I can cut up the tree and get to the horse trailer.

I don’t have a problem with actually building a house. The problem I’m having is that I have no money to buy materials so I have to build with what I have already. I’m not sure I could build a sod house seeing as our land has so much ledge, I’d have to have the dirt brought in from someplace else and I can’t afford that. :( .

It’s depressing not having a house to live in, and knowing how to build several different types, but having no way to get the materials to build a single one of them.

Of course, there’s no guarantee that once I finally do get another house back up, that they won’t just burn it down again. I need to move away from these people, but I don’t see why I should leave my home, when my family has been here for over 300 years and the people trying to make me leave moved here in the last 10 years!

A sod house would be pretty burn proof though and I could plant a garden on the roof too!

“Whenever we spend money or play an active role in society, take time to consider the consequences of our actions. Buying a tank of fuel supports the violent occupation of the middle east, buying cheap clothes supports sweatshops and child labour, buying from transnational corporations funds the extraction of capital from poorer countries and the erosion of human rights.” ~Simon Saville

What’s your take on this? I’d love to hear what you have to say about this post. Leave a comment and share your views!

Thank You Kitty. . .Page copy protected against web site content infringement by Copyscape

————-
If you liked reading this blog and want to read more stuff written by me, I have lots of websites, where you can read other things I write, here are a few of the ones I like the best:
Create your own banner at mybannermaker.com!.
Create your own banner at mybannermaker.com!.
Create your own banner at mybannermaker.com!
.

black birdfall leaves centerblack bird

Blingo

Shop the Star Trek Store Today!
Your Favorite Characters Are At CartoonNetworkShop.com!

DIG: Amphibious Aliens/Water Faeries

black birdOld Orchard Beach Sea Shellsblack bird

Amphibious alien (or water faerie?) sighted in Maine. A woman from Maine tells of her aliens encounter.

read more | digg story

What’s your take on this? I’d love to hear what you have to say about this post. Leave a comment and share your views!

Thank You Kitty. . .Page copy protected against web site content infringement by Copyscape

black birdOld Orchard Beach Sea Shellsblack bird

————-
If you liked reading this blog and want to read more stuff written by me, I have lots of websites, where you can read other things I write, here are a few of the ones I like the best:
Create your own banner at mybannermaker.com!.
Create your own banner at mybannermaker.com!.
Create your own banner at mybannermaker.com!
.

Blingo

DIG: Amphibious Aliens/Water Faeries

black birdOld Orchard Beach Sea Shellsblack bird

Amphibious alien (or water faerie?) sighted in Maine. A woman from Maine tells of her aliens encounter.

read more | digg story

What’s your take on this? I’d love to hear what you have to say about this post. Leave a comment and share your views!

Thank You Kitty. . .Page copy protected against web site content infringement by Copyscape

black birdOld Orchard Beach Sea Shellsblack bird

————-
If you liked reading this blog and want to read more stuff written by me, I have lots of websites, where you can read other things I write, here are a few of the ones I like the best:
Create your own banner at mybannermaker.com!.
Create your own banner at mybannermaker.com!.
Create your own banner at mybannermaker.com!
.

Blingo

DIG: Amphibious Aliens/Water Faeries

black birdOld Orchard Beach Sea Shellsblack bird

Amphibious alien (or water faerie?) sighted in Maine. A woman from Maine tells of her aliens encounter.

read more | digg story

What’s your take on this? I’d love to hear what you have to say about this post. Leave a comment and share your views!

Thank You Kitty. . .Page copy protected against web site content infringement by Copyscape

black birdOld Orchard Beach Sea Shellsblack bird

————-
If you liked reading this blog and want to read more stuff written by me, I have lots of websites, where you can read other things I write, here are a few of the ones I like the best:
Create your own banner at mybannermaker.com!.
Create your own banner at mybannermaker.com!.
Create your own banner at mybannermaker.com!
.

Blingo

>DIG: Amphibious Aliens/Water Faeries

>Amphibious alien (or water faerie?) sighted in Maine. A woman from Maine tells of her aliens encounter.

read more | digg story

DIG: Amphibious Aliens/Water Faeries

Amphibious alien (or water faerie?) sighted in Maine. A woman from Maine tells of her aliens encounter.

read more | digg story