Walking A Fosdic Lake Stairway To Nowhere Pondering How Difficult It Is To Have Dutch Sensibilities In Texas

Fosdic Lake Stairway To Nowhere

The photo of the dark Fosdic Lake Stairway to Nowhere may be what is known as a visual metaphor, signifying symbolically the depths of despair this day after day of damp, gray, cold weather is having on my usually reliably upbeat self.

This endless gloomy weather is even getting to the perennial Polly Anna known as Elsie Hotpepper. Today Elsie is talking about consulting a Fortune Teller to see if some direction can be found for Elsie's quest to figure out if she is okay or not okay.

I told Elsie Hotpepper that she is okay, but I'm no Fortune Teller, so my opinion really does not matter.

It was slightly raining when the point in time came for my doctor prescribed daily bout of endorphin inducing aerobic stimulation. I chose the Oakland Lake Park walk around Fosdic Lake option, which I've already sort of indicated with the mention made of the Fosdic Lake Stairway to Nowhere.

I did not employ the services of of a bumbershoot to facilitate a dry walk. A windbreaker with a hood sufficed as sufficient waterproofing.

This morning my nephew sent me several photos taken when my nephew took my grand-nephew, Spencer Jack, up to our family hometown, Lynden, to visit relatives.

That is Spencer Jack standing above my grandma, his dad's great-grandma and Spencer Jack's great-great-grandma.

Neither Spencer or my nephew would have reason to know this, but grandma would have been very pleased to know a great-great-grandson was visiting her.

Lynden is a Dutch town. With a number of churches that would make the Buckle of the Bible Belt, where I am now, Green with Envy.

Lynden's cemetery is called Monumenta. Monumenta is on both sides of the Front Street entry into Lynden.

Monumenta is segregated.

Dutch people are buried on the north side of Front Street, non-Dutch on the south side. I have relatives in the ground on both sides of Front Street.

In Lynden you will find no litter. Lawns are kept meticulously trimmed. To not keep your lawn meticulously trimmed would be to risk extreme ostracism. But likely, unlike Fort Worth, you would not be in danger of a citation or fine.

Growing up with Lynden, Washington as part of my background, may explain part of the reason why I can be so appalled at some things I see in Fort Worth. Like littered, weedy, un-landscaped freeway exits to a town's top tourist attraction.

Am I the only Dutch person in Fort Worth?

Waiting On A Turkey Walking Around Fosdic Lake Thinking About My Relative Weight Gain & The Wounded Knee Massacre

Duck Hunting Is Not Allowed On Fosdic Lake

Before my thawed too early turkey was scheduled to be pulled out of the oven I drove to Oakland Lake Park to escape the heat of the kitchen by walking around Fosdic Lake.

That would be Fosdic Lake in the picture, looking very blue, peaceful and serene. With a large number of ducks and geese making a formidable flotilla of loud quackers.

That tall skinny thing in the left side of the background is the Mount Tandy Tower, also known as the Fort Wort Space Needle.

It has been a long time since I have parked at the base of the Fort Worth Space Needle in order to hike the Tandy Hills.

Due to being unable to go swimming, for a variety of reasons, and due to being unable to hike the Tandy Hills, for only one reason, that being the trails are too muddy, I find myself quickly putting on weight.

I think it is my Dutch genetics that cause me to be able to put on weight real fast. All the Dutch people I know are easy weight gainers. Now that you are making me think about it, pretty much the only Dutch people I know are relatives. So this easy weight gain thing might not be something all people of Dutch descent are blessed with.

On July 22 of 2012 it will be 10 years since I flew up to Washington, to the fairgrounds in the town of Lynden, about 5 miles south of the Canadian border, for the biggest family reunion of my Dutch relatives since my great great grandpa and grandma sailed from Amsterdam to New York City in 1889.

1889 is one year before the Wounded Knee Massacre in South Dakota ended the Indian Wars, which is one of the reasons I am so judgmental regarding how you Americans, prior to my relatives landing on the continent, treated the Native Americans, because my ancestors had no part in it.

I have been to the site of the Wounded Knee Massacre. It is an eerie location.There is a big sign telling what happened there, from the Lakota Sioux point of view.

There are no Native Americans left in Arlington to put up a sign in the Village Creek Natural Historical Area to tell what happened there, courtesy of the Texans, to the Indians that called the Village Creek area home.