Father's Day

I've thought about the making of a family. As a woman, I know how it changed me. I know what I've felt - the wondrous and the not-s0-wondrous throughout the process of my becoming a mother. And I've been lucky enough to have a seat up front watching my husband become a father. I say lucky, because he's been the best show in town. He began without a clue. Having been around no babies aside from his little brother, he had no clue how to hold a baby, what on earth went on with babies....it was as if he was moving to an other planet. Our first baby was a premie. And I became quite ill after his birth. Lar was plopped on that other planet with a sick wife unable to care for a just about 5 1/2 lb colicky crying tiny red person who just fit in his father's hand. And no help.
I've written this for him:

The mystery that excluded him as a seed took root and grew.

the glorious frightening changes in the one he'd come to know,

the mind numbing exchanges in words with no connection,

his whole world changed in one moment of conception.

The fear, wonder, enrapturing,

the miracle before his eye's camera capturing

The newness of the thing called "love"

more exactly called "pain"

chest expanding, heart rendering all this to attain

This thing called Fatherhood.

My God, the changes I've seen in the man. Those strong hands that only knew about throwing balls, tackling opponents, driving nails, became the hands of a care giver, a diaper changer, a boo-boo mender, a cheek toucher, a baby lifter....beautiful hands that sometimes make my eyes tear to look at.

And more, so much more than he knows, his heart has grown so big....his love flows out over our family, and over others....he has been made so much more by the presence of his sons, and their wives and their children.

Larry you are everything it means to be a Father.

I love you.

Happy Father's Day.

Juneteenth

Just read the little historical fact at the bottom of my blog....had to admit, I don't think I ever knew about it.
It is for that very reason that I chose to put that addition on my page....I seem to learn at least that one thing a day....and for old brains, it's always good to learn.
Today is the anniversary of one of the times our old country tried to learn. I guess the attempt to learn is a good first step....but we really need to try harder to absorb the lesson, take it on and make it part of our being. There should be no "others" - there can be and are people who do bad things, and we can and should detest their actions. But there simply should not be "others" who are deemed not our equals because of color, origin or whatever else we judge by.

Juneteenth celebrations include a wide range of festivities, such as parades, street fairs, cookouts, or park parties and include such things as music and dancing or even contests of physical strength and intellect. Baseball and other popular American games may also be played.
Juneteenth is mentioned in the writings of Sojourner Truth as a day when the slaves of New York State could celebrate one day of freedom. She reports in her writings that the parties and celebrations were such that she even considered giving up her freedom to be able to take part. This can be found in "The diary of Sojourner Truth".

Happy Juneteenth - all....do NOT take the day off from being vigilant in ensuring and treasuring freedom in America. For all.

Father's Day 2010

Today (June 18) marks the 15th year my Dad has been gone. He died on Father's Day. In many ways, it seems longer than that. In fact, in many ways it "was" longer than that. My dad spent far too many years "gone." Dad lost his own father when he was a child of about 10. He never stopped missing him. when I began my interest in genealogy, he pinned great hopes on my ability to discover his father' story. I never did. Granddad had been a travelling salesman when he met my Grandmother and stole her heart. Theirs was not a very happy marriage. From what I understand, he was a gifted taxidermist, a hunter, a fisherman, a nature lover. He was also an abusive alcoholic.

My Grandmother never knew anything about his past nor his family.

Grandma was a model woman of her day. She represented everyone's ideal - she was a gifted musician, she played piano for the silent movies, and played piano and organ for the little country church where she was a devoted, active congregant. She was always plump and her hugs were like being enveloped in a duvet, her laughter was contagious and hearty. She adored her children and raised them within a strong family unit - her dad, who died too young, her mom, both of whom were Welsh, her aunts, her sisters, her brothers. They had little in possessions, but they were a very loving family.

Grandma's daughter, Joyce, my Dad's older sister, died at about 13 of a congenital heart condition.

As a young man, my Dad developed terrible abdominal pain. He finally went to the family Dr. who diagnosed appendicitis and before Dad reached the hospital, his appendix burst. He very nearly died. He was assigned full time nursing care and fell madly in love with one of his nurses. Julia was old school. One simply did not date a patient. But Dad was a romantic - and persistant. Mom told me stories of walking along the sidewalk and a car following slowly, driver calling "when will you go out with me, Nursie?" He sent flowers and candy. finally she gave in.

When WWII began, Dad signed up. He left his tight knit family and his young wife and went to war. He often told the story of arriving in England and being given an address for the home in which he would be put up. He knocked on the door. An English woman answered, and when he began to tell her why he was there, she gestured to the stairs, said "upstairs" and that was the end of their conversation. He was exhausted and climbed the stairs eager for a wash and bed. All that stood in the room was a bedstead, with bare springs. He thought there must be some mistake. He went down to ask about the bed and the woman snapped "they said I had to put you up, they didn't say I had to make you comfortable." He was in shock. Never could he imagine his own mother saying such words to anyone, not even to a stranger.

During Dad's service, he landed on the Normandy beaches on D-Day.

And during his many hours in foxholes, he handcarved this frame and carried my picture and one of my mother and me throughout the war. In his hand around the frame are the names of places in which he served.

The Good Times

Isn't it always wonderful to gather as family for the "good times?" And while there was a mental health crisis and complete break down involved with our day on Saturday, it was all for a truly good and love filled day.

We set out at about 11:30 AM for what should have been a 2 1/2 hour or so drive. Our beautiful niece and her new husband had invited our family to share their happiness in an outdoor reception in Nanticoke PA at 3:00 PM.

I set up the GPS, went to Google and printed out those directions, and had a map handy in the glove box.

It was a gorgeous day to travel, and as we neared my "mother-mountains" I was purring with contentment. Even after all these years, those mountains seem to embrace me and tell me I am "home." Things moved along beautifully, and we were pleased with our time and distance travelled. It was all good. Then, before exit (I think 95) GPS woman urged us to take an exit that did not exist. Well, it once existed...you can see old barriers now blocking it, but we simply could not use it. So we continued on, assuming that GPS lady would adjust. We get to the exit and she begins complicated but detailed directions, and we are suddenly going SOUTH once more, with no way to turn around. We realize that in her "adjusting" she has "decided" to take us back to the blocked exit and "make" us take it again! So we lose almost 1/2 hour driving back and we get off at the next exit. I go into a snack shop to see if the workers there can help me. Yes, they can. Get back on the TPK and go back the way we came. Aw Gee! At this point the GPS lady begins to froth at the mouth, roll on the floor and then she dies. We were taking directions from a mad woman! A dying mad woman!
Out comes the map - the Google directions, and I begin to attempt to combine the two and off we go again. By now, Lar could make the drive with his eyes shut...been there and done that oh my!

Finally within a couple of miles of the Holy Child Grove, we begin to meet the people. First, we ask a driver stuck at a red light beside us. Where is the grove? Oh, that's in a whole other town, you have to go another way. Umm, no, I decide not to listen to another "helpful" mad woman. On we go. We see a nice gentleman on the porch...rocking, peaceful....I decide to step in and stop the peacefulness....after all, if we ain't peaceful ain't nobody gonna be peaceful! He is so sweet, calls "mama" outside from dinner preparations to assist. She does, she's deaf, but she knows her way around. They were darling. I think I'll go back and see them sometime.....but I won't use the GPS! A bit further on, we've missed a turn somewhere and a young man getting gas for his truck really gets into it! He is thrilled something fun is going on at the grove. Can't believe we are now almost an hour late, and gives precise (well, almost precise) directions and finally at just about 4:00 we arrive.
Mel and Robert had apparently had a Cinderella sort of wedding in St. Thomas, on the beach the week before. She was a stunning, breathtaking bride...she still is. The contentment and happiness on her face tells the story. She's waited a long time in her short life to find her Prince, and it looks like she may have done so. The food was fabulous. The music and the temperatures were hot. The family so enjoyed this opportunity to be together....for a truly happy occasion.....there are to be a number of opportunities in the next couple of months, we discovered...and we are so happy about that. The blessings of family....the love....it's all good.

Gotta bury the GPS today....but that's another story!

June Weddings

We were married in June - almost 47 years ago....gosh! where does the time go?
My new heading shows the cake topper we had on our wedding cake.
Traditionally, one used to save the top layer of ones wedding cake to enjoy on the first anniversary. We followed that tradition, gave the top layer to Larry's parents to freeze for us. When it came time for the tradition of actually eating the cake on June 15, 1964, we discovered my father-in-law had greatly enjoyed it himself!
Maybe that's what has blessed us through all these years. Something has given us the help we needed - well, at least the help Larry has needed. I've always acknowledged, he's been the one who needed all the help he could get.
Anyway, we surely loved my father-in-law much more than any cake. He was one in a million. We still miss him.
We don't miss the cake at all!

A Course in Miracles

"Miracles are a kind of exchange. Like all expressions of love, which
are always miraculous in the true sense, the exchange reverses the physical
laws. They bring more love both to the giver and the receiver."

Much has been written, much has been said about miracles. One of the things I once read, or heard, about miracles has stayed with me - stayed written and clutched in my heart and in my mind went something like this, "miracles surround you. You need only be open to see and recognize them."

About 30 or more years ago, I received word that my dear friend, Maryanne had been diagnosed with breast cancer. It didn't look good. And she had just had a baby, her second child, a little girl. Her first was an active boy of about 10 or so.

On a Sunday morning at Mass, while at prayer, I received the message "Go see Maryanne. Tell her to drink water. A lot of water." I felt chills up my spine! This was not going to be easy! How do you go to a friend and say "God says drink water." But I was full of the knowledge that this was important, so as we left the church, I explained to Larry that he would have the kids for a while that day....I had to go to see my friend.

We sat and felt prayerful together, we talked and opened our hearts to each other. She pleaded with me, "Why would God take me now, and leave these children, this baby I wanted so much, orphans?" I told her that deep within me, I knew He did not intend that. Then I gave her my message.

She looked startled for a moment and then said, "I don't believe it! The Dr. has been telling me that and I haven't been doing it. I don't like our water!" I insisted that she do whatever it took, bottled water, boiled water, flavored water...but that she drink water and lots of it. I didn't know why. But it felt really important.

We haven't seen a lot of each other over the ensuing years, but I will never forget her beautiful smile. On Monday, I read in the paper Maryanne had died. She was 62. She had yet another child. She had Grandchildren. She had lived!

Our dear cousin discovered a few months ago she had esophageal cancer. She has an angel of a significant other for whom she waited a long long time. We see the miracle in her finding him and having him to support and love her through this time. We actually see the miracle in our own lives to have him. Rita didn't tolerate her chemo sessions well, but a couple of days ago when they did the scans before her surgery, they found the tumor had done some significant shrinking.

She went into surgery. Family was told she'd likely be on respirator after the surgery. She had been told there would be chemo after the surgery.

The surgeon came out after the lengthy procedure with what I'm told was a big smile. "We got it all!" What beautiful, miraculous words!

While the family stood at her bedside whispering, Rita, Without Respirator!, opened her eyes, and said softly "Hi." A bit later she said "I love you all."

Miracles happen all around you. Open your eyes. Say Hi to them. Say I love you. And give thanks. Give thanks always.

Not Berry Nice At All!

About 30 years ago, I decided to have a strawberry garden.

I went to the garden center and had the man there tell me in detail exactly what needed to be done to have a successful strawberry garden.

It required lots of digging, lots of amending, all kind of details to which I attended faithfully.

Then I planted the little plants, lovingly.

Now keep in mind that I was spending money I really didn't have to fulfill this wish. I could see the lovely berries, taste their sweetness....I was ready to preserve them and make shortcakes.

I had done everything required.

The little plants grew very satisfactorily.

They flowered. And then they began to show signs of tiny little berries, first green and then beginning to turn white.

And then over night - they were gone!

The rabbits had shorn them to the ground. There weren't even shreds to keep my dashed hopes company on that forlorn little patch of barren earth.

It really broke my heart.

A few years later I tried once more, this time shielding the little garden with chicken wire.

It kept the "chickens" out. But not the rabbits.

I never tried again.

Until a few weeks ago.

A neighbor cleaned out his garage and put a strawberry jar on the curb.

We got it, cleaned it up, filled it with good soil and then Larry went and got me some healthy little plants which I secured within the pot's holes.

They took of like blazes! They grew quickly. Almost over night there were beautiful pink and white blossoms. The pot held new growth to show me every morning.

Finally the blossoms began to develop into berries. Some were quite large.

On Saturday evening there were at least 20 berries looking very healthy and promising.

On Sunday morning there were none! There were no berries, no blossoms.

By Monday, whoever the culprit is, had begun to eat the leaves!

I'm considering electrifying the pot.

But I guess that wouldn't be "berry" nice. Hmmmmmmmmmmmm

How Was Your Weekend?

“How was your weekend,” they’ll ask.
I will smile, but I won’t be able to really respond.
I’ll simply say “it was terrific!”
And it was.
It was chock full of so many things I love. It was a weekend pretty much custom made for me.
A weekend like that doesn’t come along too often. You gotta appreciate it when it does!

To start it off, my delightful new boss sent me home early on Friday.
I actually had surplus energy left and got some chores done that could have made the weekend much more stressful.

Saturday we got a slow start and at 11:30 we picked up little granddaughter, Julia who is 8. We had made a date with her to take her to a play at the old Walnut Street Theater in Philadelphia. This theatre is the oldest in America, celebrating 200 years in 2009. I’d seen a little ad in the paper that they were running some great children’s plays, and this one was to be Jigsaw Jones and the Case of the Class Clown. We thought it would be right up her alley. We had such fun watching the magic unfold before her eyes….she responded just the way we expected her to. It gave us such pleasure.
After the play, we headed on down the road just a bit for an early dinner at the City Tavern. Another oldie, it was established in the late 1700’s – and although the original building burned to the ground in the 1800’s, it has been restored to as close to the original as is humanly possible. The Chef there is tireless in his research for recipes from the early days. The food was really good. I enjoyed a beef pie, Lar had handmade beef sausages, and our little girl of the newer age had chicken tenders and pomme frites. Lar and I had a couple of Philadelphia’s beers, as this was Philly Beer week. All in all, a most satisfying meal. Our server was an added plus, he was full of information on the Tavern. He is a true asset to the place.

Saturday night we enjoyed a recorded session of Gavin and Stacy – one of our favorites. It was a peaceful, relaxed evening.

Sunday, off to another slow start. Then off to Wegman’s for goodies to make up a festive picnic lunch, picked up our dear friend William and headed out for Sharrott Winery, 370 South Egg Harbor Road Winslow Township, NJ 08037 and their summer blues festival and wine tasting.
The weather was threatening…..pretty intense heat and humidity, sudden bursts of wind, and lots of dark clouds. But we all three had decided, nice day for a ride, if we get to stay, fine, if not – back to the house for a picnic inside.
I was hugely looking forward to the blues…but held no false expectations….I figured, what the heck, it might not be bad…..It wasn’t. It wasn’t at all! It was honest, it was mighty, it really impressed us. It was Love Struck. http://www.lovestruckband.com/Fever.mp3
They are a group to watch and, even better - to listen to.
We bought a souvenir glass with which to enjoy the various wines, and Bill bought us a bottle of Shiraz to bring home.
It turned out to be a very nice day, excellent music, good friends, not a bad picnic, the weather held and we got home before the rains came.
Did I have a good weekend?
Oh my yes.
Family, friends, fresh air, sun (and not really too much of it), nice food and some decent wine, marvelous music – my senses have all been sated. I am content.
What more can you ask for?
Yes, Yes, I had a good weekend.
Thanks for asking!

Like Fine Embroidery .... with a Fork!

Arrrgh! I double HATE computers!
I spend hours each day on a computer.
Even when not working...I am surfing the 'net, conversing with friends or family, blogging, and
worse yet....
creating. I absolutely adore creating slideshows, with music....sometimes for us, sometimes for gifts.
And I HATE it!
Don't know how many times I've been frustrated to within an inch of being put away. Put away in a dark, dark, rubber room....where I can slobber and cry and scream and rant and not impose any of that on another human being.
A couple of weeks ago I created a fairly short (when you consider the thousands of pictures I've scanned!) slide show for our oldest son for his birthday. I even got some cool Philly jazz to add as background.
Compiled it.
Burned it.
No probs.
Then I decided to do the same for middle son whose birthday is next weekend.
I got a little more determined to mine for even more pictures for this one.
I downloaded (UP loaded? - I never get that right) a special song for his too. Decided on others, but decided to actually pay for one until I knew I'd got it right.
I have attempted to burn it now about 200 times. (Maybe actually 20).
Error code.
For no particular reason.
So I tried it with less pictures.
No music.
ONE picture.
The burner has stomped its feet, crossed its arms across its chest, spat out the dvd and that, my dear readers is that.
No burn.
Except for mine.
I am burning.
And where am I?
At my computer. Venting. Like that'll help.
Actually, it has!