We Are Eaten by a Rock Fish

I found this picture recently, taken one summer few years after Stan and I were married. It was taken at Lost Maples where, in the fall, the bigtooth maples set the canyon on fire with color.

Writing for Children - Non Sequitur Style

And the last installment. Too funny!

Saturday

Writing for Children - Non Sequitur Style

And here's a link to today's addition.

Friday

Writing for Children - Non Sequitur Style

One of my favorite cartoons is Non Sequitur. This week Wiley has been exploring the world of writing for children.

I give you:

Monday
Tuesday
Wednesday
Thursday

I would say something humorously pithy, but it's already been said.

A Wedding Picture Challenge

Rena and Brenda have put out the challenge to post wedding pictures. Mine have experienced some damage, which is why there's a sort of mossy growth on my forehead.



I was having a bad hair day experience. My hair was long, to the middle of my back. I wanted some curl in it, so I got a perm. The perm fried my hair and I had to have it all cut off. I was devastated. When I was about 8 Mom gave my short hair a perm and I hated it. So here I was on my wedding day with the same short curly hair!


We got married outside, under a cedar elm tree by the Guadalupe River at the home of my friends. That year there was a bumper crop of wild flowers called liatris. My friend, who was my matron-of-honor, and I went out along the country roads and gathered arm loads. I had in no way planned for my wedding color to be lavender, yet all the little accessories (ribbons, boutonnieres, cake decorations, crape-paper streamers) miraculously were the same color.



Last September on the 21st, Stan and I celebrated our 23rd anniversary. We are both surprised and delighted we have been together that long.


I think I'll keep him.

Dad

He was born today, November 10th, 1916 in Seattle, Washington.

I love this picture of him. It was probably taken on his christening day. He’s ready to go. He’s ready to ask questions, to explore, to invent, to laugh and enjoy. The world is at his feet. Notice the tatting around the hem of his gown.

In honor of his birthday I would like to share memories of some of the gifts he gave me.

The first of course, is that he was one half of the duo who gave me life. That's really the biggest gift of all.

When I was quite young, under the age of five, Dad made a pull train out of blocks of wood and wooden thread spools. He painted it red and black. There was an engine, a coal car and a passenger car. I was small then, so I remember it as being rather large, at least a good three feet in total length. I can remember pulling it round behind me and making choo-choo noises.

I was, for a while, rather jealous that my sister had a bicycle and I didn't. Hers was brand new from the store. On my eighth birthday Dad presented me with a bike. He had, from three wrecked bikes scavenged parts and made me one. I'm ashamed to say I was disappointed it wasn't a store bought bike. But in my later years when I finally acquired a bit of wisdom I realized how precious the gift of that bike was. He had cleaned, worked out dents, sanded, polished and painted. He had built it with his own hands, with his time, and with his love.

On my tenth birthday I woke up to discover Dad had a surprise for me. After breakfast Dad, Mom, Erva and I trooped outside to my favorite tree. For the first time in my life I saw Dad climb a tree. We anxiously watched him shimmy out onto a branch (I'm sure Mom must have been quite nervous) and from that branch he hung a swing he had made from a sturdy board and rust proof chains. I already loved the tree, but having that swing in it made it even more special. The swing and the tree figure prominently in my life and impacted me in many subtle and varied ways.

In my teens I started buying and collecting records. I think I was probably 15 or 16 when Dad, for no particular reason, (I certainly don't remember it being my birthday or it being Christmas) presented me with a stereo record player that he had built. What I remember most about it were the speakers which he had built into the the case of his old portable Smith Corona typewriter. I could open up the case and separate the speakers as each of them had a good seven feet of wire connecting them to the record player.

The last gift my father gave was during the time he was dying of liver cancer. In his last weeks, despite the pain, he taught me how to face death straight on with dignity, grace and most importantly, with humor.

Thanks Dad...And Happy Birthday

New Age

I have entered a New Age. I now have wireless and can watch those videos Susan posts.

What a difference from dial-up!

Yeeha!

Seven Things You Probably Didn't Know About Me, But Now You Do

Rena and Adrienne have put out a Seven Facts meme in which I am to list (guess) seven things about myself that you probably don’t know. And then…if you read this post I’m supposed to pass the meme on to you. Aren’t you glad you stopped by?

So here are seven things you probably don’t know about me.

1.) We once had a fruit bat as a pet.

2.) When I went to Caracas, Venezuela with my senior high school class in 1970 we were locked up in our hotel room for one whole day because university students were rioting just a few blocks away. We could see it from one of the rooms. There were police and military standing guard at the hotel carrying machine guns. And what were the students rioting for? They were protesting the U. S. and Nixon’s bombing of Cambodia.

3.) I absolutely loathe liver. Can’t stand the smell, taste or texture.

4.) Scott McKenzie was at my 19th birthday party and his present was to sing a song to me up close and personal. He sang “Celeste,” a song by Donovan.

5.) When I was eight I shook hands with Laurence Rockefeller.

6.) In my early 20’s I worked at Shands Teaching Hospital in Gainesville, Florida as a ward clerk. One of the doctors who frequented the floor I worked on was Dr. Cade, the inventor of Gatorade. He was a wonderful man.

7.) I had to do research to find out what the heck a meme is. I’m still not sure how to pronounce it…mee-mee or meem. Maybe someone will enlighten me. :O

Song for the Times - Part Six

This is it, this is The Big Day. And this is my last installment of songs that speak to me regarding our current political situation.

Regardless of the out-come of today’s historic election, let us hope that we…

WON’T GET FOOLED AGAIN. by Peter Townshend, preformed by The Who – from their album, The Kids Are All Right, 1979

We'll be fighting in the streets
With our children at our feet
And the morals that they worship will be gone
And the men who spurred us on
Sit in judgment of all wrong
They decide and the shotgun sings the song

I'll tip my hat to the new constitution
Take a bow for the new revolution
Smile and grin at the change all around
Pick up my guitar and play
Just like yesterday
Then I'll get on my knees and pray
We don't get fooled again

The change, it had to come
We knew it all along
We were liberated from the fold, that's all
And the world looks just the same
And history ain't changed
'Cause the banners, they are flown in the next war

I'll tip my hat to the new constitution
Take a bow for the new revolution
Smile and grin at the change all around
Pick up my guitar and play
Just like yesterday
Then I'll get on my knees and pray
We don't get fooled again
No, no!

I'll move myself and my family aside
If we happen to be left half alive
I'll get all my papers and smile at the sky
Though I know that the hypnotized never lie
Do ya?

There's nothing in the streets
Looks any different to me
And the slogans are replaced, by-the-bye
And the parting on the left
Are now parting on the right
And the beards have all grown longer overnight

I'll tip my hat to the new constitution
Take a bow for the new revolution
Smile and grin at the change all around
Pick up my guitar and play
Just like yesterday
Then I'll get on my knees and pray
We don't get fooled again
Don't get fooled again
No, no!

Yeaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!

Meet the new boss
Same as the old boss

Song for the Times - Part Five

We are rushing inexorably towards Tuesday. I suppose only a huge meteor strike or the caldera of Yellowstone exploding would stop the process. We want so much to believe in the process, to believe in the people running for office.

And so I give you my second to last offering of songs that speak to me.

Reason to Believe – by Tim Hardin off of his first album from 1966 recorded at different times by Scott McKenzie and Rod Stewart

If I listened long enough to you
I'd find a way to believe that it's all true
Knowing that you lied straight-faced while I cried
Still I look to find a reason to believe

Someone like you makes it hard to live without
somebody else
Someone like you makes it easy to give
never think about myself

If I gave you time to change my mind
I'd find a way just to leave the past behind
Knowing that you lied straight-faced while I cried
Still I look to find a reason to believe

If I listened long enough to you
I'd find a way to believe that it's all true
Knowing that you lied straight-faced while I cried
Still I look to find a reason to believe

Someone like you makes it hard to live without
somebody else
Someone like you makes it easy to give
never think about myself