Carolina Blue

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Carolina Blue glimmered this week —

On the sultry shores of the south —

On the week of the 4th the sea was murky, dismal, and gray —

Ocean Isle 2016 4th of July

I suppose the lack of storms accompanied with the intense heat

soothed the tumultuous seas.IMG_0016

Thank You, God, both the occasion —Blessed was I  to be there to see.

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Amazing how things change in a matter of weeks — or, sometimes  minutes it seems — Shrimp Tales and Tides

Ebbs Flow, Swells Swing, the Sun, Moon, and Stars sing  ever-changing songs of God’s Mood Ring —Beneath the Toiling Sea—Oceans of Emotion— and some of its own — but mostly revealed on the surface… Reflections of you and me.

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Shrimp Tales and Tides

I just completed this little project. Well, little may not be the most accurate description seeing as it stands two feet tall and lacks only one pound of weighing twenty.Shrimp Tales and Tides. Folk Art from Carlton's Classic Creations

The inspiration began with the little boat I bought from a lady in the “Lowes” parking lot a while back — and while piddling around the back yard with extra time on my hands I spotted an old swimmers platform weathering away on the back of my real boat. It made the perfect fishing pierFolk Art From Carlton's Classic Creations: "Shrimp Tales and Tides" for the “Old Salt” and his dog to mend nets and spin tales of fish lore and Mermaids on.

I call it —                 “Shrimp Tales and Tides”

Shrimp Tales and Tides - Carlton's Classic Creations

Shrimp Tales and Tides

 

 

 

Shrimp Tales and Tides

 

 

 

Shrimp Tales and Tides Hand Constructed Folk Art

Shrimp Tales and Tides

Shrimp Tales and Tides

Other images seen here:
http://onslow.craigslist.org/hsh/5544285079.html

What If All Dreams Came True

Fireworks3-2[1]The morning sun shone through the rift of the blinds one morning, and my semi-conscious mind must have processed the red-eyelid-grid it saw as the fret-board of a cosmic stringed instrument. I began hearing the most beautiful music I have ever heard, as my mind’s eye watched each glistening sun-ray pluck the strings. I remember being astonished by its dexterity, and melodic perfection. Upon awakening, I tried to duplicate the notes I had heard, and saw, on my guitar—If only I could remember them note for note.— From what little I was able to remember, and attempt to simulate on the fret-board, the notes seemed impossible to play in one key. Almost as if each note came from one of the 24 individual keys of the musical spectrum. It totally seemed to of been an impossible dream— But, what if all dreams came true?  I thought, and then it was gone…Fireworks1[1]

I was standing on a sea-shore, in some far away place beyond the familiar sea, where nothing looked real, or resonated with me. There were neon colors, and bird-like creatures. Lifelike, but surreal. I perceived them with all 5 senses at once. I felt, tasted, heard, smelled, and saw them — from one sense of awareness — at once. I wanted to talk to them, so I tried to open my mouth, instead my eyes opened. And I awakened. It was over…                                                         What if all dreams came true?728px-Cairina_moschata_head_norway-1[1]
I heard the phone ring as I was walking in through a large glass door leading to a hallway between two rows of desks occupied by dogs with huge human like grins, when suddenly one of them leaped out at me and said…     “You Won The Lottery”  —  But, then, of course, I woke up. doggrinningsoapoprah11[1]
I dreamed I was in a terrible hurricane, worse than any of the ones I’ve experienced first hand on the Carolina coast. It was terrifying. Water started moving in beneath my feet, and gradually rose to the level of my chin. Suddenly, a tidal wave came crashing over me, the town, and everyone, and everything, as far as I could see. And, then I woke up — But, what if every dream really did come true? Or. What if some really are warnings? What if we knew that every dream would come true? What If every dream did come true?buildingrestorationsnobridge2[1]

 

 

 

 

Graphic Images by TylaMac

Tidal Wave Image by devourerofsouls 

Grinning Dog ?

 

 

Hurricane

 

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Clouds rolling, fishing boats trolling, no one hurries, no worries.

Why would they?

Just another week before, times so oft seen ashore – Hurricane

Seas at calm, humidity and balm, casting nets, no one frets-

And why should they?

Three days still ahead, winds blustery, no imminent dread – Hurricane

Some boats docking, nothing shocking, tides ebb and flow as always.

And why shouldn’t they?

Two days out, growing swells, winds blow wet, fishy smells – Hurricane

Batten down the hatches, ply-wood patches, windows X’ed, and boarded.

Just another day.

Sea walls breach, waters roll in, cars flood the bridge again – Hurricane

Red sky morning, a sailors warning, fishing pier nearly covered.

Will it hold?

Windows smashing, palm trees lashing, bridges crashing – Hurricane

Houses falling, winds a squalling, power shorted, beach aborted—

Where are they?

People missing, windows hissing, trees falling, rivers mauling – Hurricane

Pier is gone, squeals and moans, rip-tides ravaging main street.

When will it end?

Skies darken, as the sea resides, no where left on earth to hide-Hurricane

Barometric vacuum steals breath from lungs, too late now no-where to run.

Tidal Wave!

Forty-foot wall of deadly force, headed inland with no remorse-Hurricane

Sudden blast of horrendous sound, no-one to hear it,  there is no –

Town

 

Hurricane

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Surf Daddy Project

I’ve always wanted a Sea Foam Green, or Surf Green guitar,.. and, as luck would have it… I had the perfect suspect just waiting to hang- ten Yes… just one more too many (IMO) “Black”  Stratocaster Guitars.100_2162
While researching for the project, or, “Surfing” the Web… pun intended, I learned there was a whole new genre of music circling these rare, highly  sought after vintage colored guitars. 

Actually, it’s not a new music genre at all, but re-emerged phenomena called Surf Music The“Surf” sound – began on the beaches of  Southern California circa 1963, and was all but “wiped out” by ’67 by the-“British Invasion” of pop and rock groups, with styles such as the Beatles, the Stones, the Animals, the Kinks, and Gerry and the Pacemakers… to name a few.  Although the colors, Sea Foam Green, Surf Green, Bahama Green, and their variants go back to the 50’s, “Surf Music” didn’t officially wash ashore until the  60’s.

No need to bore you with the whole paint stripping process, so100_2161 without further ado here’s my version of  a “Surf” Guitar.100_2188100_2184100_2185 These photos, of course… were taken in the closet… during the drying process.   (Temps were much warmer there.)

As far as the actual color they vary depending on the manufacturer — Going by the Fender Color Chart the one I chose is probably more of what they call “Ocean Turquoise.”

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It’s probably no secret that great guitars aren’t born of  vintage aesthetics shiny hardware, and pretty paint, but, more from its tonal properties, and playability. Which is why I ordered a new bridge, and block tremolo assembly, and added the Custom made Canadian Rock Maple neck, with Celtic Cross inlay,( for a little added eye-appeal), and a new set of    “Fender”  staggered machine head tuners.

100_2174 I’ve also entertained the possibility of replacing the original pickups with a more vintage type, such as the Gibson P90’s, or a variant, known for their crisp, clear, punch attributed with “Surf” music, but, after re-wiring everything, double grounds, and shielding, the original bridge position double humbucker pickup seems to “Surf” on its own, and the neck and middle position “pups” have a sweet sound of their own as well.

Here the project is still in its beginning stages… erm, well with me… nearly ALL modding projects are never-ending. It’s a lot like writing songs… bOB sEGER“what to leave in – what to leave out”  

Anyway…Oh, also I couldn’t help but add a little artificial ‘Relic-ing” on the body when I was painting it. Relic-ed guitars are almost as big of “The Latest Craze” as are “Surf” green guitars, as seen in the pictures of this brand new Fender pictured below. A real bargain at only $6,499.99 bucks… and yes, I said a brand new guitar. As seen here:  themusiczoo.com

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Geez, now that everybody wants a “Surf”, or “Seafoam Green” relic-ed guitar…maybe I no longer want one so much…

Oh but it sounds so good 100_2197100_2198 – I’ve even learned a few ‘Surf’ tunes.  Anyway.. here it is… the “Surf Daddy- Moondoggy – What-Chama-Call-it” um, – Thing!100_2196   You’ve got to admit — even with my personal faded relic look…it’s an improvement over…One more “Black” Stratocaster-right?
Cheers

Hotel Canuuk-I-warnedya,Eh? “For The Hook”

As Our Story Begins, we find our mild mannered Captain Bell-Hook assisting   hotel guest as they arrive at the front desk. He politely spiels to the arrivals, a congenial run down of the hotels lay-out, dinner menus, and basic orientation.

As most any day at hotel Canuukiwarned-ya, while there are  a “Few”cheerful paying customers at the desk, the usual heel-hounds  scurry about, sniffing out ways to stiff the hired help, thereby saving themselves a few dollars out of pocket change. Apparently, when some folks decide to stay in a ritzy, better than average hotel spending more on a room for a night than last months rent, they think everything else should be included in the bill.

So, as Captain Bell-Hook seemingly appears preoccupied assisting other guest, little “Chip-Off-The-Old-Skin-Flint” pulls the “make eye contact with mommie dearest” diversion, as dad makes off with the luggage cart  in attempt to save himself $3.00 bucks.

This being the oldest trick in the Gratuity Gangster Game, ole dad chuckles, thinking lil flint slips the bags unnoticed right under Captain Bell-Hook, and the entire hotel staff’s noses.

As the morning progress’s,

the same old shell-games pass numerously, erroneously believed shielded just beneath the staff’s line of vision daily, and all goes on as planned. Just another beautiful morning for the Bellmen, whom we all know would rather be at work, waiting on visiting yuppy, tight wadded transients and their families, than to be at home serving their own.

Around 10:30 A.M. while the hotel lobby thinned out a bit from the hustling crowd, the phone buzzes for service from a room on the ground floor.    Bzzzzz!!!

“Front desk, Hotel Canuukiwarned-ya, Hook speaking, how may I help you”?

A squeaky elderly female voice on the other end squelches out the words: “Young man, I need you to come and repair my microwave oven”. “Okay ma’am; What seems to be the trouble with it”“Well”.   She retorts, “If I knew that I wouldn’t need you to come and fix it”. “Now would I”?  “Ah, no ma’am, I suppose you wouldn’t”. ”I’ll be right there ma’am”.

Just as Captain Bell-Hook hangs up the phone, this little aberration appears in front of the desk, as the sound of giggles, and occasional squeak of a luggage dolly is heard down the left corridor. “Are you gentlemen doing any hiring today”? Little miss bell-booby asked. Bell-Hook, knowing this was just an apparition conjured up via the evil-spirit, ”Red-Herrinnymphus”  by another team of gratuity gluttons, left the desk manager to deal with it, and headed down the right corridor toward the old lady with the microwave issue, purposely choosing not to look left, not wanting to see the inevitable escaping caddy-cart.

As the lady shut the door after inviting Bell-Hook in to take a look at her microwave, the Hook turns and informs the lady; “Ma’am, I’m sorry, but, this is not a kitchenette room, and I will have to take your microwave back to the front desk with me”.  After years of pursuing his career as a professional service person, Bell-Hook thought he had heard every slandering stream of belligerent, belittlement’s known to man…

But, he was wrong.

As he made off down the hall with granny fiery-dart’s flash cooker, he turned to let her know she could pick it up at the desk upon checkout. Unfortunately, he turned just in time to see her fling her evil toaster towards his head with the force of a forward motioned wrecking ball, and never got the words out of his mouth before being eaten alive.

The toaster rolled down the hall end over end at  breakneck speed, before finally coming to rest at the lobby entrance, and spit the Bell-Hook out all warm and toasty.

I said the toaster spit him out all warm and toasty..

I said the toaster spit him out…

well, okay,.. maybe it didn’t spit him out after all,  which means of course, the story now must take a turn in the …

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Oh, there he is;

As Captain Bell-Hook’s assistant, “Big Bell-O-Mac”, saw what was taking place he quickly grabbed the phone to call police for obvious needed assistance, as by now little old microwave lady’s granddaughter had arrived at the scene, quite livid at Bell-Hook for taking grannies microwave. Big Bell-O-Mac had barely gotten the word; “Hello” into the phone, when the granddaughter gouged a 10 inch syringe into his leg, pumping in 800 units of green pectin, instantly turning him into a huge pile of mindless jello.

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Needless to say, this was about as much as Bell-Hook could take. Still steaming from the toaster oven, he thought better of popping-off and blowing his top all over the place. Instead, as if delivered by some unseen force, a plan to calm everyone down, and get things back on an even keel instantly came to his mind. He remembers thinking to himself; ” I  couldn’t have come up with a better plan if it were written specifically to me on the back of a Crunch Berry box”. While scooping up the plate of lime-jello, that was once his friend, and co-worker, and placing it gently into the mini-fridge behind the front desk, he tells the granddaughter of the oven smuggler she could take the microwave back up to her room.

Once the young lady left, he immediately began tracking the room numbers of all the tip- stiffing, cart stealing, appliance poaching, skin flint guest that had crossed his path since he arrived earlier that morning. He then called them all one by one, informing them it was now 11:45, and seeing as they had been such affable, gracious paying customers, the hotel was treating them to a special “Free-Lunch”  in the restaurant on the second floor.

Never being ones to miss out on a free-lunch, everyone was in the lobby, and ready to go upstairs before the clock chimed high-noon. Exuberantly giddy, in expectation of a free meal, Captain Bell-Hook had little trouble getting them all to pack into the same elevator, ready to ship off in minutes.

“Going Up”?

No sooner than the doors of the elevator closed, Hook was in and out of the phone booth, faster than a silver bullet can kill a vampire, completely transformed from the lowly, mild- mannered Bellman, everyone knew and loved, into  “Captain, You’ve Been Warned,”!!! slammed the joy stick that released the trap-door- floor of the elevator open, sending all aboard plummeting rapidly into the abyss.  A place that no one knows, not I,  not the Hook, not “Captain You’ve Been Warned”, or even the hotel establishment…No one knows where…this place is not even…

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...Okay, it's somewhere in Siberia...…Okay, it’s …somewhere in Siberia…

All seemed to be going well the rest of the afternoon, till suddenly, both front glass doors of the hotel were blown in through the lobby at the speed of light. The sudden explosive sound of shattering glass sent patrons fraying across one another, sprawling to the floor, just in time to keep from being ripped, tattered, and torn by millions of lightning speed shards of sparkling glass. To the Hook, who was now peering out from his crouched position, behind the front desk, it looked like some sort of diamonds storm- shot out from a massive cannon.  What was to come through the door next, however,was even more bone chillingly frightening to the Hook, as it was none other than Arch- Nemesis of Captain You’ve Been Warned, herself,              “Paula Deen”!!!

Hook was shaken even more upon learning from the blood curdling question the low country cook screeched, that the little old microwave lady was apparently Paula Deans granny too…

“Where’s my little microwave cooking granny y’aaaall…wut heff  y’all done withh har”? 

Looking over at the Hook, and realizing he was actually Captain “You’ve Been Warned” in a Bell Hop uniform, she screamed; “Why you yellow belly grandma hatein, non-donut eatin scandrawl you, when I git my hands own y’aaall I’m a – gonna sop you up with some maple sir-rip, and eat you alive mister”!!!

By now the news of Paula Deen’s arrival, and intentions to devour the Hook, had reached Mrs. Hook, otherwise known as “Vampire Lover”,  who spread her wings and flew in like an F-22, Stealth Raptor, in hopes to help her husband. She knew even with the assisted super powers of  “Captain You’ve Been Warned” the Hook was no match for the Krispe-Kreme-Burger-Queen by himself.

Swooping in, The Vampire Lover took hold of the Apple – butter, lard Queen , latching onto her neck, and with just one bite collapsed to the floor, an apparent victim of  instant diabetic comma.

The Hook went completely ballistic…  Reaching behind him with both arms, and swinging back around in one fluid motion, letting go of the object he’d grabbed with such a force it took out two stress bearing columns from beneath the ceiling before slamming into Deen, the Low Country Brawler Queen. Suddenly there was a massive explosion, as the entire ground floor of the hotel was coated and filled from ceiling to floor with oozing green slime. In through the holes where the two glass doors once stood, the wind blew fiercely, forming an air pocket. The green slime began to harden, as  squishy, gurgley, popping sounds came from smaller bubbles lining its walls as they burst. Suddenly, one of the smaller bubbles popped sending something flying across the hotel and slamming into the far wall which had already hardened its green slime covering into something the consistency of Super-Ball rubber. The thing shot from the bubble bounced at a high rate of speed from wall to wall, back and forth across the entire span of the hotel lobby at least 20 times like a pin- ball in a rubber room. Suddenly, sticking straight out like an arrow shot from Robin Hoods bow, it came to a vibrating stop, when it stuck into the left

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butt cheek of Paula Deen, who in turn fell across the Vampire lover with such a crushing impact that all the air came rushing out of the Vampire Lover, kick starting her breathing again.

As the slime hardened into a buoyant, bouncy, rubbery, cocoon, kids, and adults alike poured into the lobby from all directions, jumping up and down, whooping and laughing, and bouncing around like they were in some sort of a kids inflatable moon-walk castle or something.

Just then, as the Hook cleansed the remaining slime off the thing shot out of the bubble, enough to realize it was his buddy, and co-worker, Big Bell-O-Mac, Paula Deen turned and said;

“Hey, Wut wus that thang you stuck in my laft butt cheek”?

A little reluctant, Big Bell-O-Mac, shrugged, and said…“Erm, it was this 10 inch syringe that crazy niece of yours stuck me with earlier”.

“Hum”.    Deen said.  “I don’t thank I’ve felt this good in three yee-ahs, Ya’ll”.

By now the place had filled with emergency crews, paramedics, firemen, policemen, and even a doctor or two.

“Mrs. Deen, I was a guest on your show a while back”. “Here, let me have a look at you, make sure you’re okay”.  A thin, pale looking lady said.

“Oh, I’m fine Dr. Wilma “.  Deen Said. “Other than the diabeatus thang, I thank I feel better than I have in yee-ahs”. “And by the way, fancy a meetin you here.”

“Yes”. The young lady doctor said. “It is quite the coincidence”. ” Now, let me drawl a little blood from you, and see what effect that stuff  in the syringe may have had “.

“Hmm, Mrs. Deen”. The doctor said after examining the blood on a few strips of Litmus paper, and running it through a hand held meter a few times. “I don’t see any sign of your diabetes, I think you’ve been completely healed”.

“Hehehehe!!! Did Ya’ll hear thaet”? Dean exclaimed. “I’m heaaaald”!!!

“Ya’ll need to bottle that stuff up and sell it as a meeracull quewer or something, ya’ll, in fact…I’m takin a buh-ckit of it home with me and bake me some green cakes, heheheee.”

So, along that time the Hook looks up at the clock on the wall and says to Mrs. Hook. ” Well, babe…it’s quitting time. Time for the shift change. Let’s go home”.

As they strolled arm in arm toward what used to be the front door of the hotel, Hook stops in his tracks upon hearing the chime of the elevator just as it comes to a stop in the lobby. The doors open, and inside stood eight, familiar looking, dirty, half frozen, faces gazing furiously back at him. “What now”? Asked the Vampire Lover. Hook looked at his wife through eyes half glazed over from fright and surprise, and half squinted from holding back the urge of bursting out laughing and says:                                                               

                                        ….>>>”RUN”!!!>>>

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                                   Now back to my favorite pass-time:


She Sails Fare Another Day

To those who sit in darkness; 

Waste deep in the drink of woe.

The light you bring shares life;

A beacon of  glimmering  hope.

You carry the torch not for selfish gain; But, foundering ships avail.

Stranded aground, gurgling sounds, off starboard in the Captains gaze…

Hips be lifted, beams a shifted; Hoist the mainsail Maties!!!

She Sails Fare Another day.

My Sincere Thanks To:  Martha  For Shedding This Wonderful Light On Me… I accept, gratefully.  Those I choose to receive the “Candle Lighter Award” created by Kate Kresse as they have all been a beacon to me in one way or another through their words, sentiments, and friendships are as follows:

Garrick & Mary @ life of miracles.com

Dribblingpensioner

As there are no rules, or stipulations regulating administering this Award, other than to offer it to any, and as many beacons of  light you feel worthy, I will certainly be adding more sites to the list at a later time. There are many of you who have received this Award, and though there is no limit on how many one can accept, I think our loyal reading, and commenting lets us know who’s who in the bloggerhood…  So Much Love…       So little Time. Bless You all, and again many thanks to: Martha@in Love w/the LORD  and  Kate@believe- anyway

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Twenty-Twelve

It is said the ancient Egyptians attributed the design and construction of the Great Pyramid of Giza to the “SONS OF ENOCH”                               Chapter 1

Many find this to be quite interesting, surprisingly possible, and yet,  just not believable. From my personal studies in this area I have not only found  it to be believable, but also documented in many ways, and therefore easily accepted as truth. The ensuing report will include evidences of this for your enlightenment, and hopefully will intrigue you to seek a deeper truth. The truth that will set you free.

We on Earth are rapidly Mayan Calenderapproaching a date in time and space in which the Mayan (Long Count) Calender abruptly ends.

Where were you when…

“The Sons of Enoch” chapter 1

Follow “Sons of Enoch” Chapter 1 through 24 Via Sons of Enoch -> forward link @ the bottom of each post.

HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!

Bless You

paul

Oh Shucks..I think I finally did it.. I’m back online…I think?

THANK GOD THANK GOD THANK GOD!!!After a week of working on this thing, I think I’m back online….

But then… Who the Hell Knows!!!

PLEASE STAND BY!!!