On May 5, 1868, Logan declared in General Order No. 11 that

The 30th of May, 1868, is designated for the purpose of strewing with flowers, or otherwise decorating the graves of comrades who died in defense of their country during the late rebellion, and whose bodies now lie in almost every city, village, and hamlet churchyard in the land. In this observance no form of ceremony is prescribed, but posts and comrades will in their own way arrange such fitting services and testimonials of respect as circumstances may permit.

I've been looking without success for pictures I took as a girl on "Decoration Day" in Columbia NJ. Pretty much the whole town would turn out at the little cemetery across from our small church. Everyone would be carrying small flags, the American Legion would be represented, guns would be shot off, there would be some music, some singing, a prayer or two, and a great deal of respect paid to the graves of those lost in war. It was not a day of picnics, family gathering nor any particular celebration. It was simply a Remembering Day. A day of recalling those lost, now buried at the heart of their hometown.

Everyone would wear a poppy. And to this day, if I see an older gentleman (or sometimes the Ladies' Auxillary) selling those little paper blooms, I am compelled, in their honor, to fork over a dollar.

Don't forget what this day is all about.

Celebrate your family. Enjoy a day off. But say a prayer, and keep a moment just for those who, in obedience, in faithfulness, in dedication, laid down their lives.

Happy Birthday First Born 5-23-10

It's our first born's 44th birthday. He was one of our very first blessings as we started life together. A tiny little crying bundle - 5 1/2 lbs of colic and we loved him so. We still do, tho' that 5 1/2 lbs has changed a lot...and we don't often see him cry....but he is one of the most beautiful souls, he is gentle and kind and loving - happy birthday our first born...we love you so.
Note: this is long, and probably not of interest to most outside the family...but we hope he will enjoy it.

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My Twist on Turk's Miniature Rondo

True to my word, I am recording as often as I dare in order to "toughen" myself up to performance. It's amazing how much better I play when all alone and no camera running. However, I am continuing to make progress....tho' I'm quite sure this isn't how the composer meant it to sound!

Playing Hookey

Two high pressure weeks at work. Tons to catch up on at home. Saturday lies before you, stretching out with so much to do. Feeling that the dragon has breached the safety of our castle!

"Would you like to go to Ocean City today?"

"Yes! Yes please!"

And we took off all day. There was sun, and blue sky and blue water, boards, and smells of everything they sell on the boards...cotton candy, monkey cake, pizza, pretzels, popcorn, peanuts, saltwater taffy.....light breezes...........

First stop, the Used Book Store on Asbury. Actually able to pick up a couple of books from my recommended reading list.

On to the boards. Walked to our usual haunt for lunch...the Beach Club.

Sorry. Closed at 2. It was 2:30. We felt betrayed. But we still love them. Walked back to a new place, Clancy's by the Sea. Liked it a lot....but sure sorry they are located in a dry town...the place really demands you order beer!

More walking on the boards. Sitting at the pier reading.
Sun! Melanoma does take some of the joy out of it. But after a long winter, and far too many days sitting at a desk not even near a window, I relished it. I usually need to be doing something when sitting, even if reading...but today I could just be....just be in the not too hot sun, hearing the young people playing volleyball on the sand...hearing kids digging and jumping and chasing the seagulls...hearing the soft chatting of the oldsters sitting in the sun just like me.
Finally it was nearing time to go, so we strolled along once more and ended up at Mack and Mancos.....the place of actual destination when we go to OC. We might make side stops at the boards, the sand, the shops, but we are, in fact, in OC for Mack and Mancos. And in the dead of winter when we sit and dream about OC - we are actually dreaming about that place!
Dinner under our belts, we headed home.

Long Long ago.....

A picture of me (with the braids) holding my baby brother Chickie, my sister Carol is at left and our cousin Tommy behind her. This was taken at our house "up on the hill" in Columbia NJ. I remember that little sun dress, I think I wore it all the time. I was about 7 1/2 in this picture quite the little "mother."

My dad built the house we lived in, and the house next door which my Grandma Davis and Aunt Anita lived in. My dad's father had acquired the land long before and eventually we lost it and had to move to a house downtown. I really loved the house on the hill....Carol and I had a wonderful room of our own, with a little bay window with a window seat. It was a model house I love to this day.

I used to tend the furnace in the morning. One day I discovered a mouse in a trap when I was about 6. I found some sticks, released the trap and let the mouse limp away. I have always remembered my mother and father's reaction, - they laughed fondly. I think I knew at the time that it was a strange reaction for them, but I also felt extremely proud of myself. It was in this house that I first saw television. Dad brought a little one home, we all got out of bed and went to see the magic of it. On a tiny glass "window" you could see a black and white movie - a horror film, I believe, something about graveyards. While this was not my first home, I have so many memories there and most are wonderful.

I remember it before it was a home. It was land then, and I was there to see my Dad create the foundation. I learned most of his tools and could fetch them as needed. It made my little heart swell to be a part of something he was doing. And I felt I was assisting in making our home. The earth there was red clay....as they dug it, I was amazed to see it was clay. I formed little creatures from it. And it might have been one of the few times my Dad showed that he enjoyed something I was doing.

I started school in this house. My very best friend lived just a half dozen houses down from us. Our communication was yelling. "Can you play?" "Yes, come down (up)." We loved our "instant talking." Early cell phones? Ha ha!

I remember the trains going by in back. I remember Mom setting fire to the entire lot burning leaves or trash. I remember a snow fall when Dad opened the back door there were only a couple of inches of light at the top! I remember playing cowboys and indians. I remember Carol, who was only a baby herself, filling Chickie's bottle with 4 Roses because he was crying. Mom caught it just in time!

I remember Anita (Neen) whispering to me, if you want to go to the ocean with me, you pack your little suitcase tonight and meet me early in the morning. I guess I'll never know if she really told my parents, but I would creep out before sunrise and go next door. We'd sneak to the car, drive quietly out and hit the road. I was filled with the thrill of it all. She never drove the speed limit, and would often just throw her hands in the air and say "Punkin' I'm not steering any more, it's up to you!" I'd throw myself over onto her lap and steer. Our laughter was trailing behind us.

There were often police stops and I never remember her getting a ticket. She'd flirt, she was beautiful, and there were as many date requests as warnings, as I recall.

We would go out into the ocean, I'd have to wear little rubber shoes, and there were ropes tied to posts which one held onto. I'm not sure, but I believe many of our trips to the ocean were to Atlantic City. There may have been other locations too.

The line in my life between happy childhood and less so is drawn just at the point where we moved from this house.

Monkeys and Wrenches and Things That Go Bump in the Night

Life is nothing if it is not interesting.
It's what caused the original thought that Life is a Classroom, I'm quite sure.
Some think - tho' how they can retain the thought - that Life is a straight road...cradle to grave.
But my observation leads me to believe that Life is actually a sightseeing tour. It doesn't go straight anywhere except, perhaps when it is during the last couple of weeks of school, in a hot, airless classroom in the subject you like least. That's a straight road, as I recall...straight, boring, nightmarishly mundane and mind numbing.
The rest of it is up steep mountains, on the edge of a cliff with no barriers, then down pits sometimes with no brakes. It goes through places of beauty that take your breath away. It continues into the darkest night, no lights, no guides that you can see...only taken on Faith.
And Change. Oh my, there are changes, sudden S-curves with no idea what lies ahead and no idea what might be coming at you from the other side.
I think the only constant is the assurance of the Love of God. He stays right there, in the seat beside you, He has the map, He has the charge card for more "gas", He's been there before and whispers encouragement and direction.
You can just hold on to the wheel, keep an eye focused upon the point of light ahead, even if you have to pretend to see it, one step, one inch, one mile at a time
and the next thing you know,
you've lived a life!
We are in a state of changes now, we are both in some upheaval, and it is weighing heavy on our hearts. He is about to retire. I am about to be married to someone retired. My place of work is something like a smelting furnace right now. Souls and minds and hearts are being tried. I am mostly a silent observer, but the sparks and danger threaten me, so I walk carefully, love as best I can and come home spent.
Thank you God, for Your place in the seat next to me. I'll always try to feel your arm, thrown, like a mother's, across me when the big turns, stops and starts occur. And know that I am loved, and I am Living Life.

Stuff Happens

Life happens when you are busy planning something else.
Friday morning I had just got settled at my desk, was getting computer started, sorting some paperwork and my phone, set on vibrate, went off.
I generally get one phone call, at lunchtime, from hubby. No more, usually. No less.
I checked.
A text message.
I read it.
“Hey Beautiful hope ur having great week.”
Middle son.
I wasn’t planning on floating on air.
But it happened.