United We Stand! Divided We Fall!
 |
Flowers! Herbs! Vegetables!
Trees! What do these all have in common? They all are life! They
all grow from a seed. A single seed grows into a beautiful mature
plant. It's neither here nor there whether they bear fruit, flowers, a
vegetable, or even foliage. They are all a part of our life cycle as we
know it here on this great planet we call Earth. Human life! Starts the same way! A seed! We are life! We grow from that seed into a beautiful mature individual. Within, we are our own ecosystem. In the outer realm we live in an ecosystem. For this reason we need to honor all life forms here on Earth! We need to care for and nurture it allowing it to flourish. It is the responsibility of every single human being, as we are the caretakers of this great planet, to recognize and take care of anything that would compromise the balance of this ecosystem: compromising life in general. For without the lives of others, animals, vegetation, insects, and other forms of life, we would not be able to exist on a healthy foundation that makes it even possible to facilitate growth and evolution. |
 Received best speaker award for
my Ice Breakers speech with Vernon Toastmasters!
Check out their facebook page! |
 As kids we used to play in these woods. There are lots of streams. |  I miss these Woods! |
 This
is where I used to sit and write poetry. To the left of the
picture you can see a boulder I used to sit on that overlooked the
brook that snaked by it. |
 Me in the year 2016 |  Me in the year 2015 |  Me first half of 2015 |
| My Photo Album Writes: My Paranormal Experience A Championship For Grey Other Sites: Town of Vernon Website CLICK HERE DEEP: Composting and Organics Recycling |
Welcome
to my page! My journey is quiet simple actually. I
was born
in Colorado and moved to Connecticut when I was a year and a
half.
Residing in Ellington, Connecticut, a farming community, I was blessed
with visions of the beauty of God's splendor all around me.
Our home
sat atop a ledge located at the foothills of Soapstone Mountain in a
little area on the map of Ellington called Crystal Lake. The
road
leading down to the lake was paved and one could reach a boat launching
dock if walking down to the lake. As one would walk in the
opposite
direction there was a little dirt road called the Wendell Road that
went up diagonally and winded around different curves to the
right and
left until a few more side roads appeared that were also paved with
dirt. Humble in construction, our house was single floor plan with a flat roof that was painted baby blue with pink trim: quite unmistakable really. It was atop a hill with a stone ledge in front that glistened with mica and overlooked our dirt driveway. The driveway was long and it came straight up winding to the right as one could go down a little way to a street called Pine Street, or, straight up a mound of a hill to a parking area located next to the home. The home, being built by my grandfather who passed before I could meet him, my grandmother took pride and care in the house and land. With very little income to go on, Home repair was left up to my uncles and brother when he got older. I remember quite vividly, actually, when my grandmother would have my brother go up to put tar on the roof so that it wouldn't leak. On the opposite side of the driveway was a little circle that was enclosed with a stone wall on one side and as it wound to the side of the parking area it was enclosed with a fence that was lined internally with hosta plants for the border. I remember from that area the well was located in that area. From there I cannot remember the plants that were also contained within. Spanning out from the circle in a rectangular shape was the front yard that was built with a stone wall around it. To this day it stands! My grandfather also built that stone wall. I remember a single tree where we had a rope with a plank of wood for a swing tied on it. We also had a swing set located there that if it could talk it would give up all kinds of stories of young deviant children at play. The back door, which was more of a side door actually, opened out above the ledge that glistened with mica bits. I remember moments of playing Barbie meets G.I. Joe on that ledge. Not forsaking that G.I. Joe always took Barbie and her friends captives as prisoners of war. There was the picnic table situated on the mound with our clothes line that went out over the side yard that was situated at the bottom of the mound the picnic table sat upon and paralell to the driveway described earlier. In that area there was a dog run that Snoopy, the beagle that I remembered grandma had would be chained on to run around the yard safely and then in my latter childhood years: monkey bars. Bordering the property on the side yard was another home that my grandfather built. My grandparents sold it before building the home that I grew up in. To the border of the back of the house and along the side yard, too, ran an endless land of woods. Since those times these woods have been bought and houses erected on them changing the landscape much to my dismay forever. I used to walk in those woods and hide out. My brother and cousins used to play in those woods. If one walked down to Pine Street and started up a ways to where it connected back to the Wendell road, there were two houses to the front of the little side street connecting our driveway to Pine Street and one on the left. To the right was an open lot that my great aunt and uncle owned and to the side of that a little farther down on Pine Street stood another littler home. From those boundaries about a tenth of a mile up to where it connected to the Wendell Road was woods as well. To the right just as one would walk into the brush and woods there was another little ledge of soapstone and mica that overlooked a little brook that ran parallel to Pine Street and under the Wendell Road out the other side into another area of thick woods. This area was quite sheltering to be raised in. It was on that ledge, over-looking the little brook, that I spent a lot of my time pondering my life. A safe haven in my youth, I used to write in my journal or write poetry sitting overlooking that little brook. It knew my every secret. I didn't have a happy attitude as a child of a broken home, with issues of self-esteem, and, abandonment. My grandmother raised me as best she could with what little she had to go on. I do consider myself lucky to have more than most children who were wards of the state had and those who were born into impoverished households to begin with. Indeed! I had more than many I know. When one is a child sometimes these small blessings go over-looked. Now I am grown with a child of my own. I enjoy watching this new life grow and evolve. She has truly made a difference in my world and I would have it no other way. Please take a look around my site and I hope you enjoy sharing my journey.
Sincerely,
Marie A DiMauro |
Please stop by and
visit
 Click on
the Motorcycle! Enjoy the ride!
|
PHOTO OF THE YEAR FROM 2015: |
 My ex-husband Steven, Bob Backlund, Emily |  My brother, Lloyd, Mom, Me |  Emily May 2016 |  Emily winter 2016 |
 The house I grew up in |  Emily wear this outfit this July 4th (2016) |  Grandma circa 1980's She raised my brother and me |  This is me when I was around the age of 18 |
 Me and my friend, Donna at our Senior High dinner 1987 |  Me, Lisa, Tracy, and Hazel going out for senior Dinner 1987 |  Back: L-R Elias, Me, Heidi, forget his name, Tim, Tracy, Donna, Tracy.; Front L-R Kim, Billy, I forgot name and I forgot lol (when the hell did I get old) Senior skip day? The beach! 1987 |
