Toddlers are honest.

 

Pinterest

 The best comedians in the world are small and sweet, without an agenda.

They say what they are thinking, no matter how inappropriate.  Their thought processes are increasing, one synapse at a time.

 Being a good daddy

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 Stuff like this make me giggle.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Hot? You don't KNOW hot.

 

The exhibition celebrates the history of an old candle making factory which was based on Bankside more than 100 years ago  

It is July 28 and the day will be roasting hot by noon. 

Temperatures of our area may reach 108 deg. today. 

Just when the inside feels like I could bake cookies on the 

counter, a magical thing happened.

Source: livia-maria

 

Our local energy company SDG & E electric employs, 

the FLEX energy plan to keep the electrical grids from overloading.  That means they can turn my A/C off.   

 

Off!! with the fan still running. 

Source

 

Off, with the interior thermometer rising slowly up the scale.  

 82º?  That is nothing.  86º, and it keeps rising.  

                                   I stop looking.

Outside?  Thermometer past 95 and still going...A nice 

lady fixed it. She was so kind.

The A/C returned.  Thank you, God.

Truth is: Summer makes me cranky.  Life sucks. Leave me alone.It doesn't matter; hot one year or the other doesn't matter

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

  

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Soldiers go marching, old men remember

  Harry Miller in WW2

 

Canes, walkers, wheelchairs

 

Old men.

 Miller on the left

 

 

Harry was in WW2, Korea, and Vietnam

USMC

Army
Navy
Army Air Corp

Korean War
Vietnam war
Now, war in places unknown.

US Navy air craft carriers sending planes to fly off

Army Air Corp, carrying food, supplies,
and bombs—

Men and Women,
not on the front lines,
But at home, making survival
possible.

Gold embroidered

On black.
Proud to wear their caps.

Old men in caps.

Walking away,

Walking on ahead.

Oldest veteran of WW 2, Richard Overton, died at age 112 In December 2018

Lately, I see fewer WW 2 veterans, as most are in their nineties. When I do, I shake their hands and thank them for what they and their comrades did.

Now, the Korean vets are the old fellers. They still walk straight and tall. Shake their hands and thank them for their valor.

The Vietnam veterans are from my era. I thank them and ask how they are doing after their unappreciated service. We talk a while, share our memories of friends and families. 

My small county with the rural towns had many men who headed to Vietnam. Some returned, some returned but with scarred memories, and too many found their ways home in caskets.

Now veterans from this era come home and are welcomed by a grateful nation.  Too many come home with prosthetics and horrible scars. If you meet one, shake their hands, thank them for what they and their comrades sacrificed. 

Try not to cry.

 This was originally a re-post from 2013, now re-written.

My appreciation and understanding have grown. I have shaken many hands.

We live near Camp Pendleton.

Home

How many people are from our small towns (where people's names I know.) from 1966 - 1972?

the end of the war 2,970 men from the state of Illinois were either dead or missing. 

 

In our towns of Pittsfield, Griggsville, Pleasant Hill, Quincy, and others, 30 men+ died, fighting for our country.

 

In these local towns and their cemeteries where I grew up, with veterans from WW1 to Vietnam, these names are remembered and honored. 

 

Old books, Old titles

One of many titles

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Scanning through old books at antique stores is something that gives me joy.  Holding a well-used book and appreciating the hands that once turned pages fills me with happiness. 

Sometimes I find a real winner, like The Ideas of a Plain Country Woman.  The writer (The Country Contributor) preferred to remain anonymous, although she had written articles for Ladies Home Journal.  Her observations and honesty are rare now, let alone in her times, circa 1909.

And other times my finds are true disappointments.  The Farm Animals on Strike by A. H. E. Hoosier, published in 1923 by A.Flanagan Company, Chicago, Illinois, is one of these.    I tried to read it, but the book was an ill-disguised lesson on proper treatment of farm animals.  When the animals were speaking, it was entertaining.  But the moment a human started dialogue, the sentences were blogged down in verbosity.

One of many titles.

The thing is I truly wanted a real gem here, and in a way, I got more than I had hoped. 

There is a library card pocket glued on the inside cover. Taken from Port Allen Library, librarian’s peculiar cursive states the author, title, and book number.  The book was checked out on Feb. 5, 192-, by Jackie Forbes, followed by Patrice and Randy.  Tucked into the book are two 3X5 index cards.  One side of each has been mimeographed (remember that??) “Superintendent’s Check-Out Card”.

One of many titles

The teacher, Hazel E. Pine, was clearly closing down the school year, doing the mundane paper work which required that every book be accounted for and returned.  Necessary, but mundane work.

So, here I am, holding this old book.  I went to an archived site (included beneath the pictures) and found a collection of educational books published by A. Flanagan and other publishers.  Each book is accessible for on-line reading.  Definitely worth checking out, especially Mistakes in Teaching.  

Not exactly a gem, but maybe a gold mine from the past?

 

 

Looking through old books is a such a great experience. I have to stop myself from buying them.

Hay hey Haayyyy

 

The above video shows the mowing of the hay which is called "alfalfa, or clover".  It is a prime source of nutrition for cows and horses during winter. The scent of fresh cut alfalfa is delightful.

Here is the difference:

This is hay. Horses and cows love this.  Photo below:

 

Hay is off in the distance. This is straw.  This is great for putting into a stall.  Then it has to be "mucked out".  Messy job. This is what remains after different grains, such as wheat, rye, etc. have been harvested.  Straw---it is unpleasant to walk upon, and is used for animal bedding.  Not for consumption.

 

 

...On the Road again...

 

Have you ever thought of places you would like to visit?  Did you put it off, again and again? We have done that over the years.  

BUT we are actually going on an adventure.

We are hitting the road on a bus from Rapid City, SD, July 15th.  

Mt. Rushmore 

Deadwood, SD     

Cody, WY

Yellowstone

Sheridan WY

Jackson, WY

 

Isn't that amazing? God's Hands created such amazing places and things!

We'll be on a bus trip, flying to South Dakota, boarding the bus, heading to the wilderness.  

So, I won't be writing anything for that time.  I'll wander into the vault for pieces of brilliant writing, and post them.  But I will be in bison country, where we will not do anything stupid like other tourists have done.

 

 

 

Secret held

 

 

Weeping angel 

Every Sunday without fail, Catherine Henner drove twenty-five miles to Hatfield Cemetery.  With a jam jar of garden flowers, Catherine found the headstone marked “Heath” and the stone carved angel. 

Placing the flowers at the base, Catherine would pause to pray for this nameless baby buried beneath.  Then Catherine would walk over the grassy graves back to her car.

Catherine had done this for years.

One day, another lady introduced herself as Betty, and asked about her weekly trips, as she herself made Sunday pilgrimages to her mother’s grave and had seen Catherine.  “Is this little one from your family?”

Catherine pondered the question.  “Yes, I guess she is.”  Seeing Betty’s perplexed expression, Catherine explained.

“When my grandmother was dying, she told me about this tiny grave here in Hatfield, of her first-born baby girl who lived only an hour.  She made me promise to visit this grave every Sunday.” 

“So sad when a baby dies.  Your Grandmother Heath must have loved this little girl very much.”  Eleanor called after Catherine as she walked away.

Catherine stopped and turned around.  “Heath was her maiden name.  We never knew about this baby she had when she was fourteen, after she was raped by a cousin.” Catherine sighed.  “Yes, it is sad.”

Sorry to take such a dark turn here.  This was something I was told about long ago, about something that happened before I was born.  A mother never forgets her baby, no matter what.

 

A Song for my Husband

 

McDonald's Breakfast Burrito

 

My husband of 51 years and I have had this running ‘battle’.  One thing you need to know is that he loves fast food while I am not one who randomly eats empty calories or fat-laden burgers.  Another thing you need to know is that John loves to eat this fast food in the car while he is driving.

The Big Mac

Oh, the arguments we have had over the years.

 

Oh, the Big Macs, Famous Stars, and Jumbo Jacks that he has eaten (not always successfully) while trying to drive. While he does this, I am simmering in the passenger seat, sometimes steering the car while he stuffs those special sauce burgers into his mouth.

 

And, no, he would not let me drive while he ate.  You don’t want me go into that direction.

Famous Star

In honor of this ongoing struggle, I have written lyrics for a song.  The melody would be more on the lines of country western; maybe Arlee Bird or Alex Cavanaugh could come up with something.  

 

Well, here goes:

 

I’ll eat my dang burrito—

Don’t care if it might drip.

Oh, sure, the thing is messy

But just let it rip.

 

                       Chorus  

Eat my burrito-oh- oh…

And pour salsa down the side!

Eat my burrito-oh-oh…

And let that salsa slide.

 

(Mexican mariachi)

I’ll eat that hot burrito

‘Cause Del Taco’s made it hot.

Jumbo Jack--nummmmy!

I am a grown man, that you know,

A careless kid I’m not.

Chorus

(Possible key change with a snazzy riff)

I’ve got this big ol’ belly,

It works just like a tray.

No, I don’t need another napkin,

I 'll do it my own way.

Chorus

(base and snare drums)

You might hand me a napkin,

There’s a big drip down over there.

No, the people that I work with

Won’t notice or even care.

Chorus

(Repeat, and throw in some big ending)

WELL, there you have it: a song for my husband. "Yellow Rose of Texas" strikes me a possible tune to attach to the words.

This is from 2012, so long ago.  Nothing has changed, still the same. I would love to see what Arlee and Alex could do with this song.

Ten Things about me

 

Lauren Martin 

Every now and then, a blogger asks odd things.  Here, a blogger wanted other bloggers to write 10 unknown things about themselves.  So, here you go:

 
   1.     I really enjoy reading children’s books, all types and ages.  The art and the language thrill me. 
 
    2.     “Doctor Who” has been a favorite series, from way back.  I lost touch with my Who roots in 1985, and recently have returned to the TARDIS.

   3.     I yearn to live in a place where the predominant nature color is green. We moved from Ireland to So. California, where green tends to be faded most of the year.

   4.     I am playing the piano again.  Oh, not with a performance goal, but to hear the music, and feel it. Then I had to have surgery on both hands. Soon, piano, Soon. God has given music back to me, and I play for Him and me.

   5     Seeing a baby renders me incapable of logical thought.  I melt.

   6.     People amaze me.  Knowing that every car on the freeway holds a family with thoughts and dreams like me—well, that is just amazing.  

   7.     I am not confrontational.  Over my teaching years, there were situations where I had to go toe-to-toe with some aggressive (sometimes abusive) parents.  It took everything in me, but it was God’s words that came out.

  8.     I realize that my years ahead are probably countable using one hand of my digits.
 
  9.     I miss my mother more than words can say. 

10.    Rain invigorates me.

Write 10 things about yourself, post them?