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Mira's Journal
Mira's Journal
August 25, 2016

Weather. Coming in and moving through.

On a walk last night.

August 22, 2016

Running like hell after realizing I was trespassing — and then finding the treasure

The treasure is a place called Sheldon Church Ruins, far off the beaten path in a little town called Yamassee SC. I saw it on the map, then googled it, and decided it was worth trying to find.
I had booked a motel off the internets, and when I got there is was empty, scary, and so was the pool. Since I don’t give up all that easily I decided to go with my gut and get out of there rather than brave it, and used the useless pool as an excuse. The refund was done, and I went on to another place.
There, they had no idea about how I could find the ruins. I gently offered the suggestion that since it was a tiny town with the ruins the only attraction they may want to feature it. I did not get much of a response.


The next morning after 7 I set out to find them. I drove through the waking up forest, deep, dark and dense. Spanish Moss all around. A forlorn road. Gorgeous.
Siri said I had arrived.
There was a huge closed gate, but, heck, walking around the outposts of columns was not that big a deal, and here are a few photos of my calm and happy walk towards what I thought was my goal.

These photos hopefully showed my happy morning, the road photo shows about 1/4th of the length of the road. I did not take a photo of the mansion at the end of it, and can only tell of my sudden terror when I saw it instead of the expected ruins. I suddenly entertained the thought of loose dogs or guns when I realized I had no business whatsoever wandering on this huge property.

So I ran to my car, to safety. Backwards, and turning, scanning everything. The sun had risen further, the woods were a bit less ominous, and I determined to find the ruins even if this forest eats me alive.
I set out again and finally, suddenly, there it was!

I gave you the link - and now I give you some photos. Wander through them without further comment from me, and be with them as alone as I was in that forest.

August 22, 2016

A few favorites from my driving in Florida

I drove through Florida for the last four days, in a meandering way. I drove on roads through the center of the state mostly since I had the time and I don't like the fast highways much. I like to stop and look at things. In my earlier life there was never time for that.

Here I'm on a bridge somewhere north of Jacksonville (maybe), the bumper sticker is one I made in reverse so it reads right side up on my front glass, and keeps my spirits positive.

I'm a sucker for Spanish Moss.

And also for cows, cooling it under its shade. Note the bull on the right. I think I scared him.

I went to Lakeland, only to see the campus of Southern College. It has the largest amount of Frank Lloyd Wright buildings in the world.

I'll post more tomorrow when I'm rested. I have something unusual and special for you from SC.

August 16, 2016

In my inbox: A letter from Michael Moore about Trump Self-Sabotaging the campaign.What do you think?

Trump is Self-Sabotaging His Campaign Because He Never Really Wanted the Job in the First Place


Donald Trump never actually wanted to be President of the United States. I know this for a fact. I’m not going to say how I know it. I’m not saying that Trump and I shared the same agent or lawyer or stylist or, if we did, that that would have anything to do with anything. And I’m certainly not saying that I ever overheard anything at those agencies or in the hallways of NBC or anywhere else. But there are certain people reading this right now, they know who they are, and they know that every word in the following paragraphs actually happened.

Trump was unhappy with his deal as host and star of his hit NBC show, “The Apprentice” (and “The Celebrity Apprentice”). Simply put, he wanted more money. He had floated the idea before of possibly running for president in the hopes that the attention from that would make his negotiating position stronger. But he knew, as the self-proclaimed king of the dealmakers, that saying you’re going to do something is bupkus — DOING it is what makes the bastards sit up and pay attention.

Trump had begun talking to other networks about moving his show. This was another way to get leverage — the fear of losing him to someone else — and when he “quietly” met with the head of one of those networks, and word got around, his hand was strengthened. He knew then that it was time to play his Big Card.

He decided to run for President.

Of course he wouldn’t really have to RUN for President — just make the announcement, hold a few mega-rallies that would be packed with tens of thousands of fans, and wait for the first opinion polls to come in showing him — what else! — in first place! And then he would get whatever deal he wanted, worth millions more than what he was currently being paid.

So, on June 16th of last year, he rode down his golden escalator and opened his mouth. With no campaign staff, no 50-state campaign infrastructure — neither of which he needed because, remember, this wasn’t going to be a real campaign — and with no prepared script, he went off the rails at his kick-off press conference, calling Mexicans “rapists” and “drug dealers” and pledging to build a wall to keep them all out. Jaws in the room were agape. His comments were so offensive, NBC, far from offering him a bigger paycheck, immediately fired him with this terse statement: “Due to the recent derogatory statements by Donald Trump regarding immigrants, NBCUniversal is ending its business relationship with Mr. Trump.” NBC said it was also canceling the beauty pageants owned by Trump: Miss USA and Miss Universe. BOOM.

Trump was stunned. So much for the art of the deal. He never expected this, but he stuck to his plan anyway to increase his “value” in the eyes of the other networks by showing them how many millions of Americans wanted Him to be their Leader. He knew, of course (and the people he trusted also told him) that there was no way he was actually going to win many (if any) of the primaries, and he certainly would not become the Republican nominee, and NEVER would he EVER be the President of the United States. Of course not! Nor would he want to be! The job of being President is WORK and BORING and you have to live in the GHETTO of Washington, DC, in a SMALL 200-yr. old house that’s damp and dreary and has only TWO floors! A “second floor” is not a penthouse! But none of this was a worry, as “Trump for President” was only a ruse that was going to last a few months.

And then something happened. And to be honest, if it happened to you, you might have reacted the same way. Trump, to his own surprise, ignited the country, especially among people who were the opposite of billionaires. He went straight to #1 in the polls of Republican voters. Up to 30,000 boisterous supporters started showing up to his rallies. TV ate it up. He became the first American celebrity to be able to book himself on any show he wanted to be on — and then NOT show up to the studio! From “Face the Nation” to “The Today Show” to Anderson Cooper, he was able to simply phone in and they’d put him on the air live. He could’ve been sitting on his golden toilet in Trump Tower for all we knew –and the media had no problem with any of that. In fact, CBS head Les Moonves famously admitted that Trump was very good for TV ratings and selling ads — music to the ears the NBC-spurned narcissist.

Trump fell in love with himself all over again, and he soon forgot his mission to get a good deal for a TV show. A TV show? Are you kldding – that’s for losers like Chris Harrison, whoever that is (host of “The Bachelorette”). He was no longer king of the dealmakers — he was King of the World! His tiniest musings would be discussed and dissected everywhere by everybody for days, weeks, months! THAT never happened on “The Apprentice”! Host a TV show? He was the star of EVERY TV SHOW — and, soon, winning nearly every primary!

And then… you can see the moment it finally dawned on him… that “Oh shit!” revelation: “I’m actually going to be the Republican nominee — and my rich beautiful life is f#*@ing over!” It was the night he won the New Jersey primary. The headline on TIME.com was, “Donald Trump’s Subdued Victory Speech After Winning New Jersey.” Instead of it being one of his loud, brash speeches, it was downright depressing. No energy, no happiness, just the realization that now he was going to have to go through with this stunt that he started. It was no longer going to be performance art. He was going to have to go to work.

Soon, though, his karma caught up with him. Calling Mexicans “rapists” should have disqualified him on Day One (or for saying Obama wasn’t born here, as he did in 2011). No, it took 13 months of racist, sexist, stupid comments before he finally undid himself with the trifecta of attacking the family of a slain soldier, ridiculing the Purple Heart and suggesting that the pro-gun crowd assassinate Hillary Clinton. By this past weekend, the look on his face said it all — “I hate this! I want my show back!” But it was too late. He was damaged goods, his brand beyond repair, a worldwide laughing stock — and worse, a soon-to-be loser.

But, let me throw out another theory, one that assumes that Trump isn’t as dumb or crazy as he looks. Maybe the meltdown of the past three weeks was no accident. Maybe it’s all part of his new strategy to get the hell out of a race he never intended to see through to its end anyway. Because, unless he is just “crazy,” the only explanation for the unusual ramping up, day after day, of one disgustingly reckless statement after another is that he’s doing it consciously (or subconsciously) so that he’ll have to bow out or blame “others” for forcing him out. Many now are sensing the end game here because they know Trump seriously doesn’t want to do the actual job — and, most importantly, he cannot and WILL NOT suffer through being officially and legally declared a loser — LOSER! — on the night of November 8th.

Trust me, I’ve met the guy. Spent an afternoon with him. He would rather invite the Clintons AND the Obamas to his next wedding than have that scarlet letter (“L”) branded on his forehead seconds after the last polls have closed on that night, the evening of the final episode of the permanently cancelled Donald Trump Shit-Show.

Don, if you’re reading this, do it soon. Give your pathetic party a chance to pick up the pieces and nominate Ryan or Romney so they can be the ones to lose the White House, the Senate, the House and yes, praise Jesus and the Notorious RBG, the Supreme Court. Don’t be too hard on yourself. You’re only the logical conclusion to a party that has lived off the currency of racism and bigotry and fellating the 1% for decades, and now their Trump has come home to roost.

August 13, 2016

Katie Ledecky Smashes World Record in the 800-Meter Freestyle

In 1968, a teenager in North Dakota watched transfixed as Debbie Meyer won the 200, 400 and 800-meter freestyles at the Mexico City Olympics. The next time the teenager, already a competitive swimmer, got in the pool, she cut through the water repeating to herself, “I am Debbie Meyer.”

The teenager would grow up to become the mother of Katie Ledecky, who on Friday night became the first Olympian since Meyer to win the 200, 400 and 800. Ledecky completed the trifecta with a flourish, breaking her world record in the 800 with a clocking of 8 minutes 04.79 seconds.

Her split time of 4:01.98 would have won the bronze medal in the women’s 400 final on Sunday.

Ledecky’s final margin of victory was 11.38 seconds over Britain’s Jazz Carlin, who clocked a 8:16.17, two-tenths of a second better than Hungary’s Boglarka Kapas.

August 10, 2016

Short trip to the NC Mountains - came home with a few in anticipation of “Coolin’ it”

In a river going through Cherokee NC where this part is dedicated to the people and called a city park

These guys I ran across in an old barn, and then I went to the river and saw the Elk, below

I treaded gently knowing there were Elk in those woods, and sure enough I got to see a wonderful specimen

At this point I was plotting carefully where I would escape to if necessary, and trying to speculate who could run faster

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