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Newspaper - Brooksville

I Don’t use this website to talk about my experiences per say but yesterday was one for the books and it ties into some great Florida history. So, grab the popcorn, and listen up.

I have not posted for a little bit because of a few things.

1.        I’m writing a book

2.        I started a writing project for kids.

3.        Life is kicking my butt.

Let’s just jump to number 3, 1 and 2 will be coming out very soon and I don’t want to give any spoilers.

We have been crazy busy, probably like all the rest of you but just for starters, I work at

NASA and although I am just an executive assistant we are gearing up for launch and it is BUSY. The good kind of busy and I enjoy the work. However, unlike most people my other work starts as soon as I get home. I have a daughter getting married in two months (actually a little less) I have my purses and my writing. And when I get home at 5 pm, the creative ball gets rolling and I work. But for the past month I have been preparing for a surprise birthday party for my Emma. She is the middle daughter and I was worried she would get forgotten in the middle of all the busyness and wedding prep. Somehow we pulled it off but every day this week I was stealthily making stuff, ordering last minute items and figuring out a cake. If you know me personally you know I cannot cook to save my life and I was also tasked with preparing food. It was fine but it stressed me out. I got off work Friday, ran to the church and decorated with three friends until late at night. Woke up the next morning and ran to the church to set up more and get the food and cake ready before the party at 11.

Party was great, ended a bit early and we all cleaned. Then the “fun” began. My husband had been chatting with someone across the state about a fence she had. The fence was iron, old and ornate. (all my favorite things) The only problem was we had to go across the state to Brooksville, which is above clearwater to pick this fence up. For those who don’t live in Florida that is about 2 hours one way from where we are. Instead of taking his truck my husband decided to take the church van. Sounded like a good idea. Except….. he didn’t know what size the fencing was, how many pieces there were or if they would even fit in the van. All he knew was he wanted them. There is a part of that I can appreciate. So off we went, drove to Brooksville and pulled up to a small house in the middle of nowhere with two beautiful horses outside. The lady ran out and opened the gate. We drove in and at first I thought, Piece of cake. I see two pieces and think, they will fit fine. What I didn’t see was a piece leaning against the tree that was approximately 10 feet long. Huge, rusty and very very heavy. This is when we all discovered the van seats do not lay down. They barely moved, similar in fashion to a low budget airline seat; two inches in either direction.  I pulled all the head rests out and thought, well, we just put it over the seats and let it rest on top where the headrests were.  We picked up the first piece of fence and that’s when the 5th thing went wrong. It barely brushed my nice, freshly pedicured toes, ripping half my toe nail up. Now, I want to preface all of this with, I’m short but not necessarily weak and when I get hurt, it just makes me angry. I don’t cry, I don’t fall on the ground, I get mad. So I am now holding one end of an iron fence, with half my toenail in the air and I’m mad. I’m also afraid to put it down because I might hit another one and I’m only willing to sacrifice one for this project. We wrestle the fence up and slide it in through the back and over the seats. This is when Chad steps on my foot and rips my toe nail almost off. Its hanging by a thread. I’m still annoyed so I reach down and pull it the rest of the way off. All I can think about is, “its going to be three or four weeks before I can get another pedicure now!” I walk back to pull out another piece of fence only to look over to see Chad has blood running down both of his arms, from his elbow to his hands. I grab a rag to wipe his arms. Unknown to us one of the horses escapes the yard and is about to walk out the open gate and onto the road. The lady starts yelling at Chad to shut the gate. I’m calling the horse who wants nothing to do with me, chads trying to shut the gate and I forgot to mention, he’s afraid of horses. Animals know these things and all the horse wanted to do was stand there with him.

4 pieces of hay rope, one quilt, lots of blood and one missing toenail later we are now driving down the road looking like the Beverly Hillbillies coming into town.

BUT, all was not lost, the whole day was redeemed by the beautiful countryside. It didn’t even feel like Florida. We drove through some small hills and at one point the road and land opened up to a view that was breathtaking. It reminded me of Lancaster county in Pennsylvania. One side of the road off in the distance was a rainstorm, the other side of the road was blue skies and neon green grass, cows and sheep, donkeys and horses. The houses were a mix of old and new, big and small. Farms and animals everywhere. We drove past a battlefield and a brown sign that very proudly boasted of a historical monument which, when we finally found it was just a small plaque labeled Historical Monument. The trees were huge (well at least by Florida standards) and dripping with Spanish Moss. I told Chad I want a house there one day, out in the middle of nowhere surrounded by big oaks with Spanish moss that sway lazily with the breeze.

 I got home and decided to look up the history of Brooksville.  It is a unique history but not so unique that it stands out as an oddity. It has a checkered past but also a peaceful and beautiful “now.” I feel like that is how every life is. Whether it is the life of a town or the life of a person, no one will escape being hurt or being helped. Perspective is important. Brooksville has been in part of the Seminole wars, The Civil War, WW2, and has been embroiled in many issues that range from social to political. It is also beautiful. The main streets are lined with trees that are covered in Spanish moss and according to some of the residences it is peaceful all the time and filled with antebellum charm. Kind of like the iron fencing. It took a toenail out and a few vials of blood, we almost lost a horse and nearly busted the back window of the van out but we made it, and once it is cleaned up and painted it will be perfect. It will come with stories and a history but with a new purpose. Chad probably needs a tetanus shot and I can’t wait until I can get a pedicure…. next month.


Few historical sites to explore:


 
 
 

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