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So, I’m good until April 13th as the library I work for will remain on Administrative leave until this date—this is the latest update on our work schedule. I realize this puts me and my fellow workmates in a good place, for now. But, the discussion as to a possible start date to return to work is troubling at best. It’s all a social matter of time and life.

There is a plotting graph of projected deaths from the corona-virus based on return to work dates that is revealing and horrifying.* (take some time to look this graph over and fool with the sliding projector button in it…this reveals a bunch of info as we wait to return to work and the projected death rate..)

Looking at the death rate possibility (and this is only the best that can be done with a projection) if our society generally goes back to work around Easter we will likely have 115 million deaths by Oct. in America…. BUT, if the owners and our leaders kept things closed for 80 more days from now, the curve would about flatten to a death rate seen with normal cold/virus activity thru Oct, 2020….

It seems a simple choice but somehow it isn’t.  Social distancing may take too darn much time?!?!?!

William M. Tweed - Wikipedia

Those who want to open up again soon say it must be done to save our economy….These people say soldiers have given their lives for battle and this is like a battle to them. Construction workers have died for over two hundred years building America. So many have sacrificed limb or life to make America what She is now. They say it’s time for all of us to go back to work and for some workers to die doing so.

Royalty-Free Grave Digging Stock Images, Photos & Vectors ...

Those who would like to live take issue with the thought of so many dying for our economy within this calendar year. Another interesting side was this: how would 115 million deaths by Oct. in America affect our economy? Can we lose up to 115 million by Oct. without suffering some economic upheaval?

Then there’s the sap-suckers who exclaim, “But I love Grandpa!” And other’s yell back, “But we all need the money!”

Then again,  there’s this little guy in the back of the room wearing a business hat mentioning that if 115 million older folks died that would be a boost to our health care system and Social Security layout; it’d be like sweeping out the gutters after fall so things could start flowing smoothly again.  But who made anything work smoothly in the first place?

Housework Cartoons and Comics - funny pictures from CartoonStock

Hmmmm, I hate thinking I’m cluttering up the gutters.

I mean, I’ve spent my life working for a country I was taught to love thinking this country loved me back. Really, Kennedy getting shot in four places by one bullet was a bit of a shocker, but this let-em-die deal has this seventy year-old who has Asthma (note: 25 million Americans do) thinking this is personal. It’s one thing to know,’ Hey, they shot the President,’ but a whole other thing when its, ‘they don’t give a rats ass about me!’

The Renaissance Comic Strips | The Comic Strips

So yeah, this last thought can get deep, like why did I go to school? Why obey driving laws? Why not shop lift whenever possible if I can get away with it? Why not cheat on my taxes?, Ah hell, just don’t pay them and keep moving. The more you think, the more Antarctica sounds like a lovely place to live.

yes you can even sunbathe in winter :) | Meanwhile in canada ...

Middle-aged couple man and woman sunbathing in a winter resort

But then again, to be fair, honest, it is noteworthy that more than one person who thought the Coronavirus a hoax has died from it soon after the virus was first spread in America. Some people think God has a sense of humor—I don’t know, but I do believe a life has a way of balancing itself out.

The rich want the workers back as soon as possible at all costs and are willing to risk throwing the lives of so many to a bad fate. Me?  I’m hoping a reasonable leader will shed some light on the meaning of Life, Liberty and the Pursuit of Happiness…

Life Path Cartoons and Comics - funny pictures from CartoonStock

I think the unions should get a very loud voice when it comes to the start back date for workers in this country. Yep, Unions might save the day, again, here in America. So, as you get those socialistic checks that congress will send in the mail to save your ass, remember how Unions helped save the workers here soooo many times as well throughout our history.  Science, unions and social programs we have here in America make us great…not greed, not hats, not wrong headed politicians or stupid ideas.

Be smart; stay home if you can…it would be for the good of us all; it might be a sacrifice like those fighting soldiers in WW II gave. People are right, fighting this virus is like a war, but the virus is not all that this war is about. It’s about the workers lives and our right to live them.

I think Joe Biden may have said it best this week: trump should stop talking and do some listening to the scientists who know better. There is little doubt, this return to work date debate is a social matter of time and life verses profit!

Franque23 check out this moving graph below…it’s just amazing.


Okay, it’s true. I basically bother to wake up so I can take a nap later.

Pandemic administrative leave or not hasn’t changed any of that. In fact, I seem more tired than usual as I slept my ass off for 10 and 1/2 hours for three days in a row this week. Mind you, I still took my 4ish nap each day. It’s time to catch up on, oh, 55 years of working.

I’ve remembered lying on my bed at Gettysburg College during soft afternoons. Bill Beers, my roommate, and I loved to play Gordon Lightfoot and let him sing about nature and love. Those college days were filled with imagination, study, rest and fun and I was just the guy to do it! It never felt like work. Softly She Comes, by Lightfoot, was a great college guy’s fantasy, but this one was my favorite…..https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NWqK4ecpsn0…

 

(do yourself a favor and listen)

When I played on stage in NYC, I usually started my sets with, In the Early Morning Rain, Lightfoot style. Of course, I didn’t leave out, Don’t Bogart that Joint or One two three What are we Fighting For? And others like .Why Can’t We Live as Three? or Down by the River….but Lightfoot’s romantic take on his music gave rest to a turbulent time back in the 1970’s and I liked that. I didn’t know then I’d move to Gainesville, Florida.

Oh the things we didn’t know, right?

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Here, I met, Linda. She was a gal who had lived with Gordon Lightfoot in Canada for about two years, I believe, before she left him over his drinking and came to Gainesivlle. It blew my mind to meet her and hear about an idol of mine first hand.

I rocked it in H.S.

 

I have always loved the romantic side of life.

Okay, it’s not bad now. Our family is great and we’ve 8 soon to be 9 grandchildren! Here’s the newest edition….(click on this and the next two pics for larger view)

I work in the children’s department as a Library Specialist—how bad could that be?

And here at home this week due to Corona-virus, I’ve cleaned the pool and pool filter outside while standing in a snow-like fall of oak pollen and leaves everyday. It’s amazing, but here in Florida, this is our Fall season for real. But why does every possible oak flower shell from miles around land in our pool ? Someone should study this! Why me; how could this be happening. It’s like a vortex of leaf gathering exists in our backyard pool. There should be a song about this tragedy. ‘Leaf Leaves pool my Love.’ Sorta like, You Are the Wind Beneath my Wings….feeling song—

Meanwhile, as I’m trying to nap, 38 or so Gold Finch insist on eating at the nine hanging baskets of thistle I put out for them because I am a masochist. Doctor, I don’t use the term lightly.

Consider, these finch, who don’t know me from Adam, may eat up to 100 dollars of thistle as they flutter their time away here before leaving in about four weeks hence! And, guess what?  Whenever someone drives bye, or we open the door for Shadow to chase squirrels away, it scares the poop out of these birds as they fly away. Where does that poop go? Well not to Washing to D.C. I’m here to tell ya. No, it pretty much goes on my parked car—like every day.

It’s pretty evident the Gold Finch have me under some sort of mind control. I feed them; they poop on my car. And, then I do it again! See? I have no life but to smile and exclaim, “I love the Gold Finch…” Of course, I’ve tried moving where I park, but they love my car. It’s like poop is their calling card or appreciation for the filled feeders. Could this be a song? ‘Come on, Poop more on my Car’, a tune sorta like, Baby You can Ride my Car…..

So, spring is moving on. It’s true, the pool is a cesspool of leaves and pollen and the Gold Finch fleece my wallet because my car is a toilet… but about these allergies. Did I mention I haven’t gone outside without a mask on in like two weeks!?!?! Spring’s a wonderful time, if only I could breathe. And what about those lines the mask straps make on my face? These are much worse than those lines above my ears my glasses leave or maybe I’ve just gotten used to those blueish stained lines that run above my ears.  Anyway, no, mask lines are completely freaky; indents that scar each cheek with martian type facial lines. How cool is that? The song would be, ‘See These Lines on My Face Never Seem to Go Away.’ Somehow , this could work as, Yesterday, with a few words added here and there.

Anyway, it’s time to clean the pool since my wife finished doing that over an hour ago. I think I can find my car, not sure. And, I better check my bird food/pooping supply.

In the end though, I think the energy of life is about Pussy Willows, Cattails, Soft winds and Roses…Lightfoot was right …

We’re all under stress; try to take it easy. Wait, that’s a great song…

 

Don Felder visited his parents in Gainesville, Florida the Christmas Desperado came out. We lived next door.

Franque23.. It’s all a circle game….

 


It’s interesting to note that Bill Gates could give 206 million adults in America one million dollars each and be out only 3.4 % of one of his yearly incomes.* So really, would you do it if you were Bill Gates and what would be the outcome? Two tough questions, maybe.  Now before I answer for myself, I want to clarify that there are more than 206 million adults in America over 18 years of age, but those people are already millionaires! So Gates wouldn’t be giving these self-made millionaires another million.

Yep, only 206 million adults in America are not millionaires already…This I find amazing in of itself! What the hell have I been doing all my life! I’m thinking daily naps have cost me plenty. I mean, I’m a guy who picks up coins off the ground and saves them in a jar! There’s some trick to this millionaire thingy that I missed while passing the joint, jumpin’ off cliffs at lime pits naked and sitting in the Ocala National Forest like a blade of grass for three years. No, I’ve been fishing with the wrong attitude and the wrong bait. This whole, I’m-not-a-millionaire disaster is making me think twice about dumpster diving for discarded winning lotto tickets!

Okay, to answer: Yes I would one-time spend 3.4 % of my yearly income if that would give 206 million people a million dollars. But would that really help people? I already hear that don’t give a man a fish but teach him how to fish bull-shit story echoing off this post. See? The guy who just starved to death for want of a fish to eat doesn’t really need that fishing rod.

Image result for picture of a skeleton fishing

Anyway, If  Bill Gates or some other more-money-than-fall-leaves person did spread the wealth for free, the world would be a beautiful thing. Go ahead and scoff billionaire rich folks, but I know this for a fact because, in a way, someone has already done this, but not in America.

This success story of those who help others help themselves started in 2001 with a 100 dollar interest free loan.

Dr. Amjad Saqibis is currently the head of an interest free loaning company in Pakistan named, AKHUWWAT.**

This business that now has lent millions and millions of loans interest free to hard working people in need of money to get a leg up has an astonishing 99.97% full pay-back record. And, it all started with a few friends wondering if the one hundred dollars might be lent interest free to a woman with the promise that she’d return the money once she got on her feet. Well, the women returned 6 months later with money in her bank account and the 100 dollars. A few others made donations to Akhuwwat thinking this was a wonderful idea. Soon, more loans proved more people just needed that head start to make it and more donations came in. Then the loan amount became up to $10,000.00 with the expectation the money would be returned in time % free.

Image result for picture of Dr. Amjad Saqib

What has become of Akhuwwat? Currently, AKhuwwat has 110 million loans out in small or large amounts and it’s all interest free. If the past is any indication of this company’s future, the money will all be returned to use again as well. Meanwhile, more donations keep pouring into the company’s coffers.

So yes, some billionaire could give money to all Americans and make life better for everyone in this country… Just read the article linked below to realize it can be done; things could be different for us all.

There really could be a rainbow in our future…

Thing is, money isn’t wealth. Wealth is a state of being, a state of mind—the true essence of value. America has made so many people rich beyond belief to those of us who struggle to get by. Maybe, just maybe, there’s one to two of them who have both Money and Wealth. We’ll see.

Franque23

*https://www.sandiegouniontribune.com/opinion/letters-to-the-editor/sdut-letters-wealth-2013oct02-story.html

**”Akhuwat gave its first loan of $100 USD to a widow who was striving to earn a decent living through honorable means. She wasn’t looking for charity; she was only seeking a helping hand. By utilizing and returning that loan within a period of six months, she reinforced the belief that when we help the poor with trust and respect, they exhibit unshakable integrity.

The success of that first loan brought in more donations, and that group of friends became convinced that their venture into interest-free microfinance was viable. And so, Akhuwat was born, with these friends forming the first Board of Governors and Dr. Amjad Saqib serving as the first Executive Director.”

https://www.akhuwat.org/

 


It will be ten years back this summer to be precise…( Please enjoy the linked video with music below)

This is a Franquemont-Morgan reunion our families have held it seems forever. Basically, you need to understand the Franquemont’s are true royalty in our hearts and minds and the Morgan black spot side of our genes are the worst kind of horns-wagglin’ pirates. I tried that year to do a story hour to appease the pirates,  as shown through out this clip below, but none of that worked as attested by one of ours being snatched and tied to a chair for like days–you’ll see that too.

As always, it all happens at Lake Bonaparte, and this 2010 reunion gathered 58 of the good Franquemonts and the bad whatevers who think they are pirates.  Oddly, no one drinks at these reunions that I’ve noticed. Really!* You’ll see us innocently roping off of Round Island—a feat no longer possible with the development there—only to be chased down by the cops who escorted us across the lake for the want of one life jacket cause 17 wasn’t enough. You’ll see some brave the rapids in the Eastern Adirondacks… fires at night and some very bad singing! It’s all here! The hummingbird steals the show highlighted by the children who know we’re nuts.

Sunsets, swimming and the massively Franquemont Franquemonts win, win, winning!

On a special note, the two groups like the yin-yang have formed as one under the name: MorgaMONTS.  IN all, 2010 reunion was a calm year: very few got thrown in the lake that much each day, I don’t remember a single short sheet bed set but the beer theft was rampant. I still have warrants issued on this… It’s important to note that almost every single adult I took out fishing that year caught a large bass or northern worth mention..this could mean on an every four year bumper fishing cycle that 2020 may be tough fishing. We’ll find out this year at our 2020 reunion!

To be sure, the Lake was wet, the night fires hot** and the stars above brilliant—like my Franquemont story hour:-) The lake is so much fun; family reunions like ours happen around the shore each summer. 

Imagine…

enjoy the show…..https://www.facebook.com/lachlan.franquemont/videos/t.1384221843/425061848537/?type=2&video_source=user_video_tab

Franque23

 

  • Water, that is.
  • ** I honestly believe no one fell in a fire this reunion…
  • What a year this was!!!
  • Last year was an off year, no reunion…Shadow and I chilled out with my wife Dale and Grandchildren
  • Older times lead to new and none will be forgotten

  • taken at the Muse lodge.
  • from our dock

How much does an elephant never forget?

There’s so much we don’t know. And so much to know about the things we do. Life seems an endless theater of possibility. And with every turn we take, or inquisitive glance we make, more paths become visible, more doors of opportunity swing wide.

Elephants are always said to be, ‘In the room,’ but even when over-looked as temporarily invisible, elephants are always in our world.  And there’s so much the world’s largest land animals have to show us if we might notice. For one, their babies can weigh up to 260 pounds! How’s that for a healthy birth weight!

This one is keeping a snoot above….

Perhaps, a more notable case in point on elephants evolves from a single news story of a man once known as the, elephant whisper.

Lawrence Anthony befriended a herd of elephant in Thula Thula, a wildlife preserve in South Africa, a herd known at the time to be a rogue, wild, unpredictable lot of elephants, the kind many who lived near them hoped would be culled from existence.

Of course, there’s an amazing story to tell about the relationship between Lawrence and this herd of elephants. Unfortunately, this unfathomable happenstance between the elephants and Lawrence extends well beyond their interaction in life, and perhaps it was his death that concretely defined their relationship and can teach us so much.

To step back in time….

Maybe before this baby was born….or these two..

.

(There’s nothin’ like tangling with siblings.)

To begin, Lawrence met this rag-tag romping herd of elephants with the patience of, well, an elephant. His cool head and calming demeanor eventual won over the misfit tribe of elephants and soon the man and group  became fast friends.*( Please enjoy this video) The years passed with this herd of elephants visiting Lawrence at his dwelling from time to time, not every day, not every month, sometimes not even every year, but often enough to keep the lines of communication well established—no one needed introductions. New elephant babies were a joy to see and long-nose trumpets blared the herd’s joy to share when the occasion arose.

Many elephants live approximately 60 to 70 years so maybe their internal clock beats much as our own. For whatever reason, this story came to pass…

Lawrence Anthony died March 2, 2012, in Johannesburg of a heart attack at age 61 after lecturing and touring the world over on behalf of elephants.** He hadn’t seen his herd of big footed, up to 13,000 pound, long nosed friends in about a year and half when he died. However,  two days after Lawrence’s death, as pictured below, a herd of 31 elephants came marching up to Lawrence’s home to mourn their loss. They had traveled up to 12 hours to make the trip. You might want to read the above sentence again.

This is really a picture of 31 elephants arriving two days after Lawrence Anthony’s death. They had walked for 12 hours.

They never forgot.

Elephants know the beginnings have endings. But how or why do they seem to know so much? This link gets into the brain of elephants and more—***

Is it necessary to point out elephants don’t use phones, faxes, twitter, e-mail, no, not even snail—mail! The elephants just knew, they just knew when Lawrence had died and did so while being a great distance apart from the man!?!? You see? The elephants not only knew their friend had died and ALSO came to show their respects, but they indeed showed us all there is a web between Life Mankind seems most often not to see, or realize, or should we say respect? The elephants felt that web of connection, the fiber of our lives among all living things and proved they were in touch on a grand scheme, on a plain that exists as one that remains hidden from most of us due to, I think, distractions that fill our lives on a daily basis.

Zen will offer that we be here now—like this elephant seems to be.

It’s important for us to focus. Maybe how we meet Life determines how it sits within us, or, on us?

Thing is, maybe Life is much more than now, but forever, for everything all at once, for all that goes beyond our current understanding though it remains the true elephant in our world. I suspect this understanding between all of Life goes on between Man, Animal, Plant and Mineral. When we realize this connection, will we will find new pathways to peace?

Sometimes, it does take a big person, a huge personality or strong person to lead the way. If only we could let the world’s largest land animal show the way so that we might stand in their shadow and follow.

Young or old, does the elephant somehow know more than you and I? Does the elephant know what Mankind seems to forget?

Franque23 loves life.

*https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_Yap6r7pSGU

**http://delightmakers.com/news/wild-elephants-gather-inexplicably-mourn-death-of-elephant-whisperer/

***”However, their (BRAINS) are arranged differently. Human pyramidal neurons tend to have a large number of shorter branches, whereas the elephant has a smaller number of much longer branches. Whereas primate pyramidal neurons seem to be designed for sampling very precise input, the dendritic configuration in elephants suggests that their dendrites sample a very broad array of input from multiple sources.

Taken together, these morphological characteristics suggest that neurons in the elephant cortex may synthesize a wider variety of input than the cortical neurons in other mammals.

http://theconversation.com/what-elephants-unique-brain-structures-suggest-about-their-mental-abilities-100421

“In terms of cognition, my colleagues and I believe that the integrative cortical circuitry in the elephant supports the idea that they are essentially contemplative animals. Primate brains, by comparison, seem specialized for rapid decision-making and quick reactions to environmental stimuli.

Indeed, even the brains of individuals within a given species are unique. However, the special morphology of elephant cortical neurons reminds us that there is certainly more than one way to wire an intelligent brain. Lawerence Anthony is an author of three books about elephants, a person who traveled during his life around the globe speaking about elephants to anyone who wanted to listen. If not a ‘whisperer’ to elephants, he was a true friend to the species in both word and deed……There are two elephant herds at Thula Thula. According to his son Dylan, both arrived at the Anthony family compound shortly after Anthony’s death.

“They had not visited the house for a year and a half and it must have taken them about 12 hours to make the journey,” Dylan is quoted in various local news accounts. “The first herd arrived on Sunday and the second herd, a day later. They all hung around for about two days before making their way back into the bush.”

 

 


It’s simple in the most complex way. How something tied within can run from the tongue or written word to announce its preponderance is miraculous. But, again, words don’t work; I just have to try—

I’d been walking through a forest; walking forever…

I often walked to familiar places though no walk could be the same. No, rather than feeling redundant, each walk resembled a reoccurring dream that shifted ever so slightly in my head. Once, when I was young, the leaves held a glistening magic beyond compare and the stars above sang love songs. Breath came and went with a whisper of steam in the winter or without a notice in summer. A night bird’s call held a special treat for every step of the way.

The moon would rise—that was in the air, too.

Places presented a universe of change but that variance was apart from the heart of the matter. What was the heart of the matter? When I walked as a boy and walk now as a man there is one secret, one truth I print with each step I take. When any of us walk, we are searching for what we hope to find—this is the heart of the matter.

One day, I began the walk I had to make.

There were bushes, sticks and vines to push aside as I walked. Streaks of red and yellow stretched across a light-blue sky softly lit to a sun-licked amber hue I’d never seen before. The landscape seemed a mirror that span before me but I couldn’t see myself in it, and certainly not within the darkened places or behind the boulders that lay ahead.

Quiet noise drummed my ears to the beat of my heart. One foot-fall followed the other and mashed a fresh scent of pine from the needles that had fallen from the trees above. A breeze passed as a tap on the shoulder that turned me around again to see if someone was there.

I was alone.

Oh, I loved the twists and turns of life. The ups and downs of Life, the rag-tag moments of laughter that still echoed in my head and tears spent that had run dry to leave a trace upon my cheek were never to forget. I held my life near and dear; it was all I really had. I bent down to pick up a pine cone, took a breath and then moved on beneath a glorious sun-set sky.

There, in an instant quicker than a slip, a clearing appeared. This flowing, smoothly swept, warm as a blanket on a winter’s night place had a voice of its own set in a timbre no ear could deny. Its mysterious opening abruptly ended the maze of life I’d struggled to pass; it was an awakening of peace within my weary heart. The place turned my head, lifted my steps and lightened the tightness in my back. I turned around to make sure I’d left the brambles behind and come to a new place, a new clearing with only the truest of view.

The time turned to rest. All my effort, all the decisions random or not, all the painful struggle and haphazard joys of my journey had led me to this place.

It was amazing.

I’d found my way home to a place I’d never seen before.

Somehow, my heart just knew.

How does the heart know so much? How can the thing we always feel but never touch know the way to travel, the places to see and the people to hold? Love, the heart’s messenger, is startling when it comes whether that’s in the first minute when meeting someone or not. Mellowed by time or arriving in a split second, Love opens the flood gates of the soul so that we pour into a sea of understanding. Some people say being in love is like floating on air. Maybe. To me, Love is finding the ground I was meant to stand upon.

Of course, the clearing I found that day forty-seven years ago was you. I’m so thankful you had made it.

Thank you for being you.

This is the heart of the matter.

Franque23

To Dale, my wife of 40 years of marriage as of 1/3/2020-

 

 


(Click the pic for a larger view)

My Mom and Dad visited Lake Bonaparte often before and after I was born. Luckily, they got to spend about 30 summers at the lake after their employment days. Talk about memories!?!? I wonder which ones mom recalled most of all during her last summer on Bonaparte?

You know they had fun! (With our next door neighbors, the Sherman’s.)

My Dad trained for WW II at Fort drum and rested many days long after sitting across the lake from that training Camp’s location. He loved to see the planes fly over.

This is an old map of Bonaparte…(our camp built in 1970 isn’t listed.)

There are so many beautiful days at Bonaparte.

(Picture taken from our overlook of Porter’s Bay)

And cool summer nights to enjoy with family and friends.

(In the Muse Lodge porch camp)

Or stay warm by a fire…

We love our fireplace—overhead fans above the flames circulate the warm air.

Lake Bonaparte has a knack for getting cold. The one span of three days I visited during mid January the night temperatures hit 40 below twice and then warmed up to 30 below.

Even while casting images in a glass window while overlooking Nagasaki, Japan, the memory of  daytime snows falling on our daughter in Natural Bridge, New York, stayed with me.

And speaking of fires by the lake on those skinny dippin’ nights—what was I thinking!?!?! I’ve looked at this ol’ timey picture by Priests for years and years,

AND, mom snagged this Northern right in our bay! Like how many teeth of a good reason is this not to skinny dip?

Forgive me  if you know, but I feel we all should know Cody got bit on the leg in front of the Sherman Boat house in Porter’s bay (broad daylight) by a bass so large he had to go to the hospital! Just maybe, it was this fish I caught about 15 years later?

Fishin’ at the lake. Love it!

Perhaps many don’t know my brother Buz, (Ed Franquemont) helped build the first house on Round Island? He owned Bare Bones, a building outfit.

Here’s the team that built that house….!

My brother, Ed. (This shot taken elsewhere)

However, this shot below is on location on Birch Island where my ex-brother-in-law, Paul Doherty, lived with Meta for 30 plus years. My niece’s husband, Craig Carlock, was in charge of nibbling down trees to clear for pathways on that Island long ago and everyone should know. We still call him ‘Beaver Man,’ though he also does the best drankin’ loon call you’ve ever heard.

This is Craig watching our dog, Shadow, clear 22 feet off our dock going for a ball….and we’ve built that dock again since.

Have you noticed, lake people wave back?

It’s all too much fun! There’s always some to do or think thing about…

Beware of Pirates…..at the lake! Them Morgan clan folk.

I’m thinkin’ even our dog Shadow is looking for fish!

Impossible not to love.

While at the Lake, my sister, Sharon Franquemot, with a book published in nine languages, You Already Know What To Do, remains humble with me about our family’s  Kingly Heritage.

(really….our ancestor’s home is below. Karl Eugen ruled as Duke over most of Germany and Southern France in 1750)

So, the thing about visiting this one of five castles Karl Eugen had… sure it’s large but,….it was hard to find the bathroom.

(Karl Eugen’s largest home in Ludwigsburg, Germany)*

Anyway, I take my love for Lake Bonaparte back home to where I work in Florida and share it on bulletins boards at the Headquarter’s branch of the Alachua County Library district….

What a place to know, right? Lake Bonaparte:

Random shot of another bulletin board and one of Dan Franquemont…at the lake. (Muse Lodge)

So much—

Bye for now.

Franque23 loves Lake Bonaparte—The place and people we never forget.

*https://www.google.com/search?q=ludwigsburg+germany&oq=Ludwigsburg+germany&aqs=chrome.0.0l8.5814j0j7&sourceid=chrome&ie=UTF-8

 

 

 


I’m trying to earn my keep here at work! I’ve repeated this board four times over the past 20 years or so. Originally, the scene was of a moose looking up at a winter’s moon with its tracks in the snow–that was at Millhopper Branch Library in the late 90’s. Sue Patterson worked there at the time and she helped me design the moose which is a difficult animal to get right when drawing—about that large nose of a head…Ha!

This is the 2013 version…

I carried the moose theme to the down town Headquarter’s Branch Library in the early 2000’s and ‘re-built’ much of the background set of trees. This board offers an elaborate background scene that’s time consuming to create so I saved all that work when the board came down a second time. To make this board cost efficient to tax payers, I’ve reused the background pieces of this board two more times, though the moose gave way to a deer and the largest tree has changed as well.

I’m thinking this may be the 2016 version….

You can see this years version in two pictures below or in the time lapse linked here. Stop the time lapse when you want to get a better look and feel for how the layering works in this design. This is a time lapse of my Holiday Board… stop it any time to see the progression…  Ho HO HO…..https://www.facebook.com/alachualibrary/videos/2470169859892438/?t=

 

   

So far, our media department (thank you Chris) has videoed a time lapse presentation of two boards I put up this year: a Halloween board and now this holiday board.

I like this board; it’s a peaceful image that sets a good tone for our work space in Youth Services. I hope this board fills your thoughts and the minds of our little and big patrons with wonder while enhancing enjoyment of our public libraries! Visit your public library—they are ours to enjoy!

Have a safe, wonderful Holiday!

Franque23

2013

The moose was really fun to draw and I’m not certain which version of this bulletin board I like more: the Deer with a larger tree and different signage, or the moose in a smaller setting. The background color changes from silver to gold and there is a moon in some and not others….which do you like better? I have to tell you what I so like about this board. The frozen lake presented by the silver paper is actually vertical on the wall but it appears horizontal to add depth to the scene… I love it.


 

Peace….IMG_20190626_203722699_BURST001

My daughter is involved with a world-wide communication between groups who intend to better the world in varying ways.* It’s sorta like an umbrella for every organization that ever had a good thought for mankind. Within this group, there is this link with the very short film found below.  It’s amazing to see and listen to.

It’s a sort message; one of peace, enlightenment and hope for all Mankind. What could be better than this? It’s a great time for all of us to step back and give thanks…and thank you for reading my glob and for being you! Cheers.

The full credits are included within the film…Oh, I so hope you watch this, investigated the other link below and share with friends. Peace is ours to create.

Enjoy

Franque23

 

*https://www.jet.org.za/resources/jala-peo-newsletter-term-4-2019.pdf/view?fbclid=IwAR0SbowquGLHcMCo1YI5oh0sVY0UOr3b0FNnL1-clXekLvRYwc97KbIXcKQ


(A Morgan-Franquemont reunion about 1951) Click the pic for a larger view.

Maybe I thought my sister might drop me—why else would I be crying?—pretty sure that’s my best diaper.

Remember being young for just a minute. There’s no hassle waiting to destroy the next minute, no bus, train, plane to catch or deadline to meet. No, you’re just young. Your skin is soft without a blemish and your hair shines like  grass after a brief rain.  You’ve learned to comb your hair but your not exactly sure why you do it. There’s no need to worry and everything feels right once your parents are home; the fire place sets itself and your dog is always fed. T.V. goes on past bedtime but you’ve seen everything you wanted to see and the day has come and gone like any other. Dreams come and go like the wind without cause or problem or forecast direction.

Everything just is. Do you remember now? Shoes or belts seemed useless unless you were playing dress-up.

(Our Son-in-Law running after his son.)

The world is an empty beach to run with dad close behind.

The sky is endless and full of mysterious clouds to watch as they drift by.

(My cousin’s son, Ross Franquemont, takes a selfie as he flies by the Northern lights in his U-2 plane.)

Remember the first time you stared at the clear night sky and realized there were more and more stars to see up above as your eyes adjusted to the blackness. Remember the morning dew on your bare feet. This is about the time you discovered ,’brain-freeze.’

There was so much to take in and share with your cousins and friends.

A la speed-o suit; that’s me.(Morgan dock at Lake Bonaparte-about 1956) ( AND… the person who edits this glob weekly* asked a good question: why am I the only one wearing a bathing suit? The dock is clearly wet?!?! Hmmmm)

Days come as easily as picking up a pencil. The scribbling on the paper wears a smile and it seems your masterpiece is, in fact, a heroic depiction of something meaningful to older folks—it’s some miraculous sketch of objects you’ve yet to see or a panorama of places everyone hopes to go. It’s good to be loved. Daylight loves you; nighttime is a blanket. The rain sounds loud upon the window pane and snow dances in street lights with winds that come from the moon you can’t see.  The pets always sleep on your bed.

Everyday is safe. Every night is cozy. You get along with other  kids, even with those who seem so different!

Being young harbors within it a certain kind of peaceful hope.

(View of Lake Bonaparte from our ‘half-way’ dock.)

Without notice, you assume the older folks will always be here.

Life seems a garden of acceptance.

You can wear any hat you want when you’re young!

(And on Youth Services hat day because we could.)

Routines begin to form. If it rains, you stay inside. If it is sunny you go out. Parents rush off in the morning and come back later after your nap but you’re never really alone, not that you’ve noticed or ever thought about. Tooth brushing is a daily important thing, not the best, but you watch as globs of toothpaste slide out of your mouth onto your cheeks around your out-stretched smile in the mirror and it tastes sweet. Tooth paste types change from being white, then striped, sometimes dotted or with a hidden line of stuff surrounded by white. You just do it.

You think broccoli may kill you but not if you eat just a bit. Vegetables are stupid but they’re the gateway to dessert.

I once thought food first filled my feet, legs, then my middle section, then my arms and finally my head: that’s when I was full. I made sure to save room in my head for dessert.  People talked over dinner but mostly we all came to eat. Someone would say something funny and we’d laugh but always, without fail, my dog’s head was near my lap, soft, warm, nudging my legs occasionally for that bit of something I didn’t care to eat or wanted to slip him anyway.

I hadn’t a care when I was young. Music filled the air and dancing had no steps, just movement.

Of course, I learned later in life that my life was not a universal experience. No, while I was in college there were children in Vietnam who awoke in the night to run out of their homes in fear Napalm bombs would hit their homes and burn them alive as it had some of their friends the night before. And other children weren’t lucky enough to live at all but died without ever knowing what a refrigerator was. Somehow, learning the truthful horror about some life on earth during my twenties put much of my childhood experience in a time-capsule that I cemented in a corner stone of myself.  My memories were too good sometimes to be shown in the face of another’s reality.

I’d been given so much and never knew. I’d been raised in the midst of modest but successful homes full of choices, flavors, designs, music,  friends and surrounded by mowed yards and shoveled driveways all owned by smiling people.

If you’re life was like mine, it’s okay. It’s okay that we may have been born some of the luckiest people on earth. Thing is, now it’s our time to give thanks. Now, if we haven’t already, it’s time for us to payback life anyway we can.  We have to fight for what we believe is best for this earth and give thanks to those who died for our right to do so. If we have something to teach, we have to do it. I think Thanksgiving has never seen a generation who has more to be thankful for than mine. Now, more than ever before, it’s time for my generation to stand up and speak about what we feel is right.

My generation owes the World a difference.

We can do this. It’s time to be young again, strong, wide-eyed, questioning and full of spirit. Spirits don’t age like our bodies, not really. Look in that mirror as you did as a child and see your face, see your smile and remember who you really are. You’re one who can make a difference.

We all can get along; we have to get along and help each other prosper—this is our task and purpose.

Franque23—Happy Thanksgiving.

*Barbara Mullenix gets all the credit for anything spelled correctly in these globs and none of the blame for all the rest….

 

 

 

 

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