thank you for the new thread, I thought to try to create one when I saw how long the old one was getting and alas I can get to the dashboard but it won't let me do anything. at least I can post, I am grateful for that!
I am having a mighty fine time listening to "The Hobbit." Voices add such dimension to the work. Find that true with all audio books. When my body says "hit the bed" but I am not sleepy it makes a fine evening!
That he does! Brenda made a fine soup for our Sunday dinner this week. I think the four out of five of my young 'uns became good cooks in self defens. The four include my one son. I kept them healthy, but not really creative day after day!
Yes, Gandalf, a joy. Very warm day today. I'm tired. It seems since the floods in Sept. and our evacuation, we just go day by day. Our house should be finished with the staining and painting mid or end of next week. Then more events coming up.
Wildfires in California, toxic water in Ohio, earthquakes in Southern China, 16 foot waves in the Arctic Sea which was once frozen. Climate change is just political---Right!
And on my homepage, Senator Chambliss defends (torture) enhanced interrogation. President Obama is the first and only President to admit to torture. I think the radical right hates honesty, finds it makes them vulnerable.
From the chapter "The Piper Pipes" in the book *Rilla of Ingleside* by Lucy Maud Montgomery, which follows perfectly the chronology of WWI, and deftly expresses the shift from a world of innocence to the throes of horrific war:
...Kenneth seemed in no hurry to suggest going back and when they did go back supper was in progress. He found a seat for her near the window of the lighthouse kitchen and sat on the sill beside her while she ate her ices and cake. Rilla looked about her and thought how lovely her first party had been. She would never forget it. The room re-echoed to laughter and jest. Beautiful young eyes sparkled and shone. From the pavilion outside came the lilt of the fiddle and the rhythmic steps of the dancers.
There was a little disturbance among a group of boys crowded about the door; a young fellow pushed through and halted on the threshold, looking about him rather sombrely. It was Jack Elliott from over-harbour—a McGill medical student, a quiet chap not much addicted to social doings. He had been invited to the party but had not been expected to come since he had to go to Charlottetown that day and could not be back until late. Yet here he was—and he carried a folded paper in his hand.
Gertrude Oliver looked at him from her corner and shivered again. She had enjoyed the party herself, after all, for she had foregathered with a Charlottetown acquaintance who, being a stranger and much older than most of the guests, felt himself rather out of it, and had been glad to fall in with this clever girl who could talk of world doings and outside events with the zest and vigour of a man. In the pleasure of his society she had forgotten some of her misgivings of the day. Now they suddenly returned to her. What news did Jack Elliott bring? Lines from an old poem flashed unbidden into her mind—"there was a sound of revelry by night"—"Hush! Hark! A deep sound strikes like a rising knell"—why should she think of that now? Why didn't Jack Elliott speak—if he had anything to tell? Why did he just stand there, glowering importantly?
"Ask him—ask him," she said feverishly to Allan Daly. But somebody else had already asked him. The room grew very silent all at once. Outside the fiddler had stopped for a rest and there was silence there too. Afar off they heard the low moan of the gulf—the presage of a storm already on its way up the Atlantic. A girl's laugh drifted up from the rocks and died away as if frightened out of existence by the sudden stillness.
"England declared war on Germany today," said Jack Elliott slowly. "The news came by wire just as I left town."
"God help us," whispered Gertrude Oliver under her breath. "My dream—my dream! The first wave has broken." She looked at Allan Daly and tried to smile.
"Is this Armageddon?" she asked.
"I am afraid so," he said gravely.
A chorus of exclamations had arisen round them—light surprise and idle interest for the most part. Few there realized the import of the message—fewer still realized that it meant anything to them. Before long the dancing was on again and the hum of pleasure was as loud as ever. Gertrude and Allan Daly talked the news over in low, troubled tones. Walter Blythe had turned pale and left the room. Outside he met Jem, hurrying up the rock steps.
"Yes. The Piper has come. Hurrah! I knew England wouldn't leave France in the lurch. I've been trying to get Captain Josiah to hoist the flag but he says it isn't the proper caper till sunrise. Jack says they'll be calling for volunteers tomorrow."
"What a fuss to make over nothing," said Mary Vance disdainfully as Jem dashed off. She was sitting out with Miller Douglas on a lobster trap which was not only an unromantic but an uncomfortable seat. But Mary and Miller were both supremely happy on it. Miller Douglas was a big, strapping, uncouth lad, who thought Mary Vance's tongue uncommonly gifted and Mary Vance's white eyes stars of the first magnitude; and neither of them had the least inkling why Jem Blythe wanted to hoist the lighthouse flag. "What does it matter if there's going to be a war over there in Europe? I'm sure it doesn't concern us."
Walter looked at her and had one of his odd visitations of prophecy.
"Before this war is over," he said—or something said through his lips—"every man and woman and child in Canada will feel it—you, Mary, will feel it—feel it to your heart's core. You will weep tears of blood over it. The Piper has come—and he will pipe until every corner of the world has heard his awful and irresistible music. It will be years before the dance of death is over—years, Mary. And in those years millions of hearts will break."
Another day. Listening to NPR, on the Israeli and Palestinian conflict, a policy of separation between the parties has been in effect for 20 years at least. We talked about South Africa and Apartheid. It certainly didn't work for South Africa, and Jim Crow and segregation didn't work for us. I wonder if the policy is even questioned.
Wow. The President's birthday falls each each on the anniversary of England declaring war on Germany. Germany had declared war on France the day before. When England joined the fray, we had a larger event underway. This makes me watch events in the Middle East and Ukraine and Asia with attentiveness. Poignant that our President's birth shares the day.
I only discovered yesterday that the day the Archduke Ferdinand and his wife, Duchess Sophie, were assassinated [28 June 1914] was also their 14th wedding anniversary. That meant a lot to me, because 74 years after they were married, Bill and I were married, on 28 June 1974. So, it was the 60th anniversary of their assassination. We did not know.
Did you know that Sophie's casket was set a meter lower than her husband's because he had chosen to marry for love instead of duty. She had been a lady-in-waiting! The marriage was permitted with the understanding that none of their children could be his successors. They were considered to be of lower caste, and were not even permitted to attend their parents' funeral, due to their low standing!!! After all, wouldn't want such riff raff present with the high brows. Egads. There was, at least, another more low-key funeral for the children to attend. They were all so young.
I appreciate all the stories coming out from 2014-2018 about WWI. It is very good to put stories and faces with such events, to fully take in the human cost of war. War never solves anything. At best it delays something. But the angst always resurfaces, and war pushes hatred into the next generation.
Rather bummed tonight. Two funerals to go to soon. The first is for beloved brother-in-law John (73), who was also the brother of a beloved sister-in-law. The other is for a young guy named Ben (23), whom we knew from the sailing school. He was freediving in the Bahamas and there was an accident of some sort. A vibrant and fabulous sailor. So sad!
I'm going to watch The King's Speech tonight, then go outside and look for meteors while we're observing lights out. C'mon world, let's do Peace for a change.
Thanks for the historical updates, ladies. I am very sorry about your losses, Listener. I had a short, but welcome visit by a grand-son from Michigan last evening. He was passing through GSO on their way to ome of the Carolina beaches. Full family will be back for a stop on Friday evening. Good to see him-- Brenda and I missed the family gathering at The Rock this year.
Let me tell you of my love for you How you have set my blood on fire, over and over again.
A man I do not know have never seen and yet whose words for close to fifteen years now have spoken to me over and over and over again Have pierced my heart's home, created light and love and longing
Among my small human prides is that I know a man who has stood in your presence and conversed with you about the ways of farming, and perhaps of poetry, too, for he is a poet as well as a dairyman The webs of this world are a mystery to me, but I know you have always been in this child/girl/woman's heart, unknown and known You have always been company and companion
And I thank you for taking up the traces early, and keeping to them: The farm, the history the prose, the poetry, the politics; For walking the marges carefully and remembering to bring them back those little lights, those glimmers, for remembering and sharing and passing them on
I can never forget the possibility of a farmer in Peru falling out of his field and have the pictures from elsewhere in the web to prove you right had I ever had a moment of unbelief. . . .
Thank you for posting your poetry again, Puddle. I remember you sharing it with us the first year we had this blog. Do you know there is now a Wendell Berry Society? Daughter Dana put it up for me. Let me see if I can get it.
Ah, Puddle. Such a lovely poem. Thank you for sharing.
At work now, and when I get home, back to getting things ready for the Annual Summer Party, which this year, falls on my birthday again. Love it when that happens.
Took the sheer curtains in the living room down because they had gotten gray and dingy. Tossed in the washer and dryer and in an hour they were back up. I remember my mother with her curtain stretchers that she had to assemble and then stretch the curtains across the hundreds of tiny nails so that when it was dry, there would be no wrinkles. Took her all day to do all the curtains.
I sure am with you on our conveniences, Pat! We spent so long without a dishwasher (of course, when the kids were little!), that to this day we are still seen opening the dishwasher and exclaiming, "The miracle happened again!"
Today I took a drive to visit a very dearly beloved friend so we could enjoy a delicious repast and have a great time talking about everything and nothing at all. Ahhhhhhhhhhhh~!!
Wednesday at about 4 PM, I was talking to my sister when the phone went dead. So also our computers on Internet. A cable was the problem, and it was fixed yesterday at about the same time. How startling it is not to have phone and Internet. It's become an adjunct to our lives every day. Without it, there's a huge sense of isolation.
But, we're back, life is good, and wishing you all a good day.
Agree, Pat)--the first thing I do every morning after breakfast is check on family and friends! And has anyone heard from Puddle in the last two days? Wondering if her phone line is out again.
Off to a baby shower for a family on the mountain. A small poem.
Wild Turkeys
They’re back, their pitchfork feet marking the road in arrows. Fields of Bee Balm, plenteous, soft purple, violet, and they meandering through, their heads wagging, snacking on seeds. Not a bad way to dine out, cheeping like water dripping clinking like glasses of wine.
The firehouse was decorated all in pink: balloons, flowers, ribbons, crepe paper, and about 50 people attended. More clothes than a dozen infants could wear.
Today, Daz Bog poetry meeting. Green Fuse Press is changing hands, so we'll discuss how to help make it successful. It's a huge undertaking, and so many small presses simply can't survive.
Krista Tippett who has her own show, On Being, on NPR was awarded the National Humanities Medal by our President. Joan Didion and others have received this. Here's what President Obama said:"On the air and in print, Ms. Tippett avoids easy answers, embracing complexity and inviting people of all faiths, no faith, and every background to join the conversation."
That's why I'm so grateful and happy we have him as President. Reading about Nixon and Watergate, he sent a representative to the Peace Talks saying that the U.S. wasn't interested in peace, trying to sabotage the talks. Good Grief, what the lust for power does, and how fortunate, mostly, we've been given the dictator like tendencies, the deceptions of people like Reagan, Nixon, George W. Bush.
Bedroom and living room heaters on today. My creaky bones don't work well under 70 degrees. Thanks for the forecast, Puddle. Looks about like this area.
Good meeting, good people. Here's the revised poem. As a friend of mine said,"Everyone needs an editor."
Wild Turkeys
They’re back, their pitchfork feet marking the road in arrows. Fields of bee balm, plenteous, soft purple, violet, and they meandering through, their heads wagging, snacking on seeds, cheeping liquid exclamations clinking like glasses of wine. Not a bad way to dine out.
And yes, Nixon was a complicated, driven, vicious man, though that wasn't his entire character. He did approve the EPA among other things.
I'm so tired. This summer has been one activity after another. I don't sleep well, wake at 4 or earlier. Gosh, getting old just isn't anything we're used to, but, everything teaches.
good morning sunshines! I hope you are all doing well today.
I think that it's good that we look back on history and reflect. to see the wrongdoing of past leaders and yet not let the bad overshadow the good takes a fair mind and a compassionate heart. to be open like that makes it possible to learn from past mistakes but not be paralyzed by them. I think our President is good at doing this, much to the chagrin of many democrats!! but it bodes well for all of us I think.
thank you for the poems and life stories and wisdom that you share here ladies. <3
Oh what a difference a good night's sleep makes. Suddenly, instead of stumbling down a ladder, I'm up and walking in the meadow. Optimism, appreciation, purpose.
Jo--you made me realize that I have one thing for which I need to thank the Nixon administration. It was a combination grant/loan for the year I was at University of Michigan earning the library degree. I applied and honestly included all of my expected expenses. This included not only tuition, books etc but funds for a once a week overnight stay in Ann Arbor and car expenses. I was driving 90 miles each way and needed some energy left to pay attention to my family. I remember digging up some information at the time. It involved a long time Dem still in office who thought these grants/loans should be eliminated--but Nixon made decision to keep them. It was a period when university librarians were in very short supply. It came as a grant, but I faithfully trotted over to MSU admin building every month and repaid. I was hired in April while at UM for a job at MSU that needed to be filled in September. So--yes there was a need and I owe Mr.Nixon a thank you for that! Hope I haven't told this story previously.
Good morning, Ladies. Yes, Nixon resigned on my birthday. My mother sent me the local paper with the headline above which she wrote, "Happy Birthday!"
We had a grand and glorious party with wonderful loving friends. All the hard work we did, cleaning up the yard, landscaping, cooking and cleaning paid off. It's so good to see so many diverse people playing musical chairs and enjoying each other.
We had 4 different areas with between 6 - 8 seats and people would get up to get something to drink or get some more food and someone else would take their seat so they'd move on to another area. I felt so loved and appreciated. It is good for one's soul.
My daughter and a good friend came early and both just know exactly what needs to be done and pitched in and got it done. By the time guests really started arriving, everything was in place. Can't tell you how much stress that took off me.
AND, many many wonderful FB posts. I have to get over there and thank folks. After I get my meds set out in my pill boxes so that I can take the meds I usually take at 7am. HAHAHAHA. Didn't wake up until 11:30, a personal best.
much love and many hugs to all my wonderful friends here.
This is where my first awareness of Nixon came from. . . .
Helen Gahagan Douglas. She was one of only a handful of women in the House of Representatives between 1945 and 1951 (and the only one there in 1947), and would have been the fourth woman ever elected to the U.S. Senate had she not lost to Richard Nixon in what is widely considered the dirtiest political campaign in American history.
Other methods employed by the Nixon campaign were even more sinister. In 1950, fear of Communism went hand-in-hand with anti-Semitism, since many of the leaders of the Russian Revolution were Jewish, and many American Jews were known to have a leftist or progressive outlook. Nixon’s aides decided to investigate the rumor that Douglas’s husband was Jewish and that his real surname was not Douglas. They managed to uncover that he was, in fact, half-Jewish, and that his last name was Hesselberg, which a theater producer persuaded him to change in the late 1920s. Soon, Nixon began deliberately “slipping” in his public speeches, calling his rival “Helen Hesselberg” before “correcting” himself.
This is from Johnson (another President I don't like, lol!):”The Great Society had a real chance to grow into a beautiful woman. I figured she’d be so big and beautiful that the American people couldn’t help but fall in love with her…but now Nixon has come along and everything I’ve worked for is ruined…She’s getting thinner and thinner and uglier and uglier all the time. The American people will refuse to look at her; they’ll stick her in a closet to hide her away and there she’ll die. And when she dies, I, too, will die.” — Lyndon B. Johnson, on the Nixon Administration’s dismantling of many of LBJ’s Great Society programs, 1970
Time four with The West Wing. Prez Bartlet is in Beijing. With all these Cantonese actors, lol! Also like to remark that no one who speaks Putonghua sez Bayzhing. . . . It's a really simple "jing" as in jingle bells, and why American speakers want to make more of it, I have no idear.
A few episodes ago, the presidents (current and former) are going to the funeral of President Lassiter, and the short term (several days) president was talking about being in Beijing, at the Great Hall of the People, and not being able to find the bathrooms, he and Lassiter went outside and were peeing in the bushes together, while chatting. And I had to laugh: the chance of finding ornamental bushes anywhere in China is skimpy. . . . Same as grass. Chinese believe such things cause mosquitoes. . . . No one who'd been there could have written those lines.
A brother-in-law died last weekend, and we are planning to go to the memorial service next weekend. Last evening I was asked by his sisters to officiate at the service. Their minister (whose wife died less than six months ago) is away on a much needed two week vacation and all the usual fill-ins are unavailable. I said I'd do it. They are still seeking a minister, and I'd be fine with that panning out. But if not, I'll step in. It can't be harder than officiating at my own mother's funeral 13 years ago this week, right? Meanwhile, I am pulling together a liturgy that meets their needs.
John was a gentle soul who was easy to like. He was a civil engineer who built bridges and was a recovering alcoholic for 20+ years, who helped many many people suffering from addiction. He was 73 and died of heart related issues.
A nice day ahead. Puddle, I have to smile. You are right about Jing. I'm thinking that maybe American announcers are confused by the zh, thinking it should be Zhzzz.
On the other hand, America is pronounced Mei Guo (May Guahh), "Beautiful Country". As you know, of course. Those Chinese! I'm laughing. Aren't cultures wonderful!
Will be trying to go camping, doing some poetry readings, and finishing the staining of the house, so will be off for a while. Take good care of yourselves and each other.
I'm thinking about taking some leave time from facebook. So many of my friends are animal savers. Truth is, I'm 'bout exhausted and nauseated from looking at all the abused and tortured animals. . . . Kittens, dogs, dolphins, seals, turtles, horses. . . . Wish everyone could/would remember they are but one of dozens of friends posting the same ugly, sad, miserable message daily. Almost feels like a perverse form of voyeurism.
I agree there, Puddle. I find myself scrolling so much. Then, when you "like" something, up pops 3 ads at minimum. not much room or time for actually catching up with friends.
so sorry listener. love and light to you and all of his family and friends.
for some good news, Zephyr won the challenge that Cuomo used to try to keep her off the ballot!! here's her statement: http://www.teachoutwu.com/statement_we_won
That Robin Williams was someone who made so many people laugh and smile, but was felled by depression, seems the cruelest way for his life to end. As I hold this open, though, I see more deeply than ever before what an amazing victory every day he lived was. Such a talent and what a struggle! He only lost that struggle once.
Today I went to a staff meeting at the Library which was twice as long as usual. Then I spent four hours puling together a worthy liturgy for John's "celebration of life" service. Then I worked in the garden for an hour and a half and got 8 lilies planted. Then I spent four more hours formatting the liturgy into a service leaflet. It's amazingly comical how hard it was for me to work out which page had to go onto which sheet of paper to end up in order once you fold the pages together into a leaflet! LOL! Now all that remains is to obtain a good black and white photo of John for the cover and to see if one more loved one is willing to read a poem at the service. Once I have that, I can print the leaflets on Wednesday. I can't tell you how much it means to me to be allowed to create this liturgy!! There are so many times when a loved one dies and there is nothing useful one can do for the bereaved family. But here I am doing something really useful and meaningful which can actually help them through some of the sharpest grieving. I have the great privilege of lightening their load and giving them a path through the mire. It has uplifted my spirits as little else ever has.
Make sure you tell the people you love how wonderful they are. ♥
My heart is broken every time someone dies, and it breaks twice when the person dies too young.
I have been super focused on getting the memorial service ready for Saturday. Clergy are under-valued!! There are so many details. For example, I need to call the restaurant tomorrow to see if they have a small table, relatively high, which can be used to display the urn. Fortunately, I have some beautiful altar linens that a friend left to me some years ago. I am mentally exhaustified and heading to bed! Sleep!!! Ahhhhhhhh!!!
Listener, thank you for sharing your ministry with us. Your knowledge and experience, your compassion, and the preparations are beautiful. I think that's what makes community: being there for one another, giving our best, and recognizing that we all share in those events and experiences that make us human on this earth.
On the up side, starting The West Wing for time five. Enjoying every minute of it: the characters, the actors, the story, the writing, the sets, the background, the historical references. Name it.
A couple dozen years back, my baby brother lost his eldest daughter, seven, in an ATV accident. I was stunned and tongue-tied for a couple of days. I knew I had to talk to him, *say* something, and I had no words. I finally dialed. And found the words: This is NOT our home.
I have felt since that death is graduation. Our tears are for ourselves, our missing them in our lives.
He said later that the hardest part of going on, of raising the other two, was trying to keep them safe without locking them in a room to do so. To let them have lives despite the inherent, innate unsafety of life.
Good evening. Pat, your kind words were as manna for me just now. I spoke with my sister-in-law tonight; the service on Saturday is for her older brother. He was like a father to her as their father died when she was only 4, and her brother was 15.
I was surprised to hear her say that she is letting the service be styled entirely for what her older sister wants. I'm not so sure it really speaks to who this man was, and I'm sad to think she didn't want anything included specifically for her own expression of grief or her own comfort. And helping her give this gift to her older sister is a worthy enough offering.
Yet…after asking me to provide a place in the service for everyone to share stories of John, there is no one in the family who is planning to speak…! No eulogy, no stories to share. I have never ever experienced a memorial service that has no memories! Moreover, only one family member and his 7 year old daughter are willing to read a reading or poem. So my dear husband will read one poem. But the rest is up to me. I'm fine with reading, but it seems almost disrespectful for folks to be so hands off. But, I suppose, simply coming shows respect. I am really mystified about this. Is it the post-Christian-era thing or what?
Yes, puddle, I so believe that we go on to something more when we die to this plane of existence. It's just like the story of the Waterbugs and Dragonflies.
You know listener my brothers and I could not speak at my Mom's memorial, it wasn't out of disrespect it was out of pain. Everyone expresses their pain differently.
Agree, Jo--and members of families are different. We had only memorial services for each of my parents. They each had had nasty long term problems-- cancer and Alzheimer's. They were both in their. 80's. Perhaps we are a more talkative family, but there was no problem telling stories, memories, laughter. Held at a family member's home. The memory of those gatherings are dear.
Oh Shirlee, we had more than 2 hours of remembrances and tears and laughter with 100s of family and friends prior to the 15 minute memorial - we just didn't speak to the entire crowd during the memorial, we were pretty broken up so a dear friend spoke for us.
we had 100s of photos and those were the best part, they really stimulated the memories and conversations. in my father's case my brother had made a video collage that was running all the time and also many photos around. for Mom he didn't have time to do the video but we had photos everywhere and even a cribbage board with a 'hand' of cards laid out that was the highest counting hand you can get which Mom got more than once. it was her favorite game and she beat all of us often!
listener, prolly as many idears of how to do things right as there are people. I was startled in my 30's to be told by a preacher's daughter that Mormons didn't *feel* Christian to her because they lacked a commonality with the church she grew up in. The year, the form of meetings and prayers. . . .
I personally hated the changes in the mass--I loved the Latin, and the new forms don't even seem like worship to me.
Jo, I totally understand! It's just so strange that not one person seems able and willing. Why bother to have a place for it, then? I guess we'll see what the moment brings.
Well, I called the restaurant to ask if they have a small table for the urn, and spoke with a co-owner...and guess what. The plan had been to have us gather in Dining Room #2, using about half the dining room, and that would not be private...! They thought we would simply be having the after-party there! When I explained the real situation she said they'd put us on the enclosed patio instead so it would be quieter with privacy. =Whew!!=. They will have a 2x4' table for the urn should we need one, and bringing a candle is fine.
Bill and I are more sure than ever that our own service will be done by clergy and in a church. We plan to create the liturgy we want and have the leaflet for it all ready to print, so that all our kids have to do is add the date and print some up. It is just so much easier on family to have this part figured out ahead.
I am still very happy to help for this gathering. I'm just not sure it's really what they need.
puddle, have you ever seen the movie While You Were Sleeping ?
It has SUCH great dialogue, and your note about liturgy reminded me of it.
They're in church and the grandmother says, "I liked the mass better in Latin." Then she adds, "It's much nicer when you don't know what they're saying."
;-)
I once took a Liturgics class. During the course of the semester, the instructor performed the Eucharist for us, beginning with a really old Latin version. Over time, he used newer and newer versions all the way through to the current version of the Eucharistic liturgy. It was done in a large, beautiful church, with Tiffany windows and woodwork. When the mass was said all in Latin, with the priest's back to the people, with no congregational responses, and only the priest partaking of the bread and wine, I found myself growing restless and bored. I got up and started walking along the edge of the church looking at the beautiful windows with great interest, all the while listening to the liturgy. Suddenly I realised that I was just like those early pilgrims at a Latin mass! Many of them were illiterate, and the original reason that Bible events were depicted in stained glass windows was to be something of a pictorial Bible for people who could never have read the Scriptures for themselves. In that regard, I felt my response was incredibly apropos. In fact, it was only required of people that they be present for the moment when the priest lifted up the bread and chalice, for it to count that they had attended…!
listener I am sure that it will be well in the moment. we didn't have a set schedule other than how long we would be in the funeral home and it was wonderful, very spontaneous, many people that we hadn't seen in decades showed up for both of my parents' memorials. the woman who arranged the memorial for my Mom is a good friend of mine and she came to the cemetery the next day to say prayers with us. it was lovely.
Too funny, listener--with my little Marion missal, I knew every word the priest was saying. . . . and loved the idear that I would anywhere in the world. . . . plus Latin turned out to be *my* foreign language.
One of his sisters told me she doesn't expect anyone except family, which counts to 29. I sincerely hope she's wrong and his friends come and tell great stories. Send good vibes, I'll need them. ♥
Just watched online the old TV movie "Maybe I'll Come Home in the Spring" starring Sally Field. I hadn't seen it since I was 16. I'd forgotten how it ends.
YAY! Eye exam - check. Dermatologist - check. Mammogram - check. Annual Physical - check. Knees X-rayed - check. Only Cardiologist left to do and that will be Tuesday. My annual birthday present to myself is just about complete!
You'll do just fine, Listener. You have done enough prep work to be assured of that.
Much love and many hugs to all. Off to concentrate at work and actually get something done.
yes, blessings to listener and the family and loved ones today.
puddle this is one of the nicest summers that we've had in a long time. only a couple of days near 90, a bit of rain during the week but gorgeous weekends, only a couple with a bit of rain. I think Reed's part of the state has had more storms but the temps have been mostly in the high 70 and low 80s with cool breezes most nights, down in the 50s. I'm sorry that you aren't getting similar, it has been beautiful. it's a bit cloudy and cool today but is going to improive soon.
Thanks for all the kind words! Your good vibes definitely mattered.
It was quite an experience. We got there, and the service was indeed set up on the enclosed patio as promised. Actually, it was more like a diner in shape and affect...and we would all be sitting in booths. And even though they had cordoned off much of the patio, they began seating other people down the other end! Plus, the restaurant was unable to turn off the pop music or the "number 7, your order is ready" speakers...! So, we opted to all go outside and have the service in the parking lot, since we were at a side of the building where only our cars were. The restaurant is beside a salt marsh, so I stood with my back to the marsh, with the sun in my eyes, so the group could be looking out at the marsh, instead of at the parking lot and cars. It went fine from there. The family was sure no one wanted to speak, but 4 or 5 did, and I added something too.
John's sisters thanked me, very sweetly. But my favourite comment came from my young adult nephew who said it was just right and "very John." We all agreed that the best part was doing it outside, since John was very outdoorsy, and just as we were reading together The Serenity Prayer a tour plane flew low overhead. :-)
KINDNESS by Naomi Shihab Nye (today's shared poem) "Before you know what kindness really is you must lose things, feel the future dissolve in a moment like salt in a weakened broth. What you held in your hand, what you counted and carefully saved, all this must go so you know how desolate the landscape can be between the regions of kindness. How you ride and ride thinking the bus will never stop, the passengers eating maize and chicken will stare out the window forever. Before you learn the tender gravity of kindness, you must travel where the Indian in a white poncho lies dead by the side of the road. You must see how this could be you, how he too was someone who journeyed through the night with plans and the simple breath that kept him alive. Before you know kindness as the deepest thing inside, you must know sorrow as the other deepest thing. You must wake up with sorrow. You must speak to it till your voice catches the thread of all sorrows and you see the size of the cloth. Then it is only kindness that makes sense anymore, only kindness that ties your shoes and sends you out into the day to mail letters and purchase bread, only kindness that raises its head from the crowd of the world to say it is I you have been looking for, and then goes with you everywhere like a shadow or a friend."
Twice last evening I tried to post a little more about John's service, but each time the post disappeared before I could post it. Then my note, to ask you to remind me that there are two things to tell you, met the same fate. So let me try again.
We deliberately started the service a half hour later than announced, to allow folks to arrive. Near the end of the service six more people arrived, and all were in their 70's, one in a wheelchair. Two had gone to school with John, one to tech school with him and three had worked with John building bridges. It was too bad they missed most of the service, but they did get a leaflet with the service in it. Those who had a John-story to share still got to tell it to John's sisters. That all went well.
The other thing I meant to share is that in the morning I sat at our daughter's kitchen table alone, and just held still. Then I asked, "Is it going to be okay?" and my interior peace barometer sank down into the depths about half way. This is hard to describe. Think of a well of peace, and my bucket making it down about half way into the depths. So it seemed things would be okay. Then I asked, "Will it also be difficult?" and the peace went much further down, meaning, Yes, it would be difficult. Prayer for me either goes this way, and is spot on, or I cannot tell anything whatsoever. While it rattled me just a little to know it could be difficult, it was a comfort to know it would also be okay.
Boy departed about half an hour ago. Water tank full, car battery jumped, flat tire inflated (but he couldn't change it: lugs welded)--gotta call the garage tomorrow. Hugs all around. We discussed finding a helper to come in from time to time to vacuum, wash stuff, etc. . . .
Ah, Shirlee, I'm sure we all have unplumbed depths. That's part of what makes us spiritual beings, as we can never comprehend all that God/Holy is. It is also true that we do not use all of our brainpower. I think our bodies couldn't take it. You know, like cell phone batteries! Ha!
The unleavened wafer dissolving the hospital hospitality now as thin. as the Priest's gift. Routine it never is when knife meets flesh.
Now in celebration of life eternal a God of our liking calms the storm and says cast your net for the fish are on this side.
So a boat is on the water wine glass ring tone reminder to share life while it is offered. This life, where pole still bends "had one on", "set the hook"
Ah, thank you, Phil ...via Puddle. This is one to read again and again.
Puddle, I totally agree with your son. I have a weekly helper who does the laundry-- which must be taken to the community laundry room in the basement, cleans my apartment, etc. MORE than worth the money. It relieves Brenda who does grocery shopping and major doc appointments. Having a helper is the only way I can still live alone. I am determined to do that as long as I can!!!
Has anybody else seen the article on Zephyr in this week's New Yorker? First article in the August 25 issue!! Long and in -depth with very neat photo. "The Crooked and The Dead" by JIll Lepore. Should give her a boost nationally.
Shirlee I went looking for tha and found this from today! Oh so exciting! let the debate begin!!! clip... It’s official: The New York Times says we’re having “a Teachout moment,” by which the paper’s editorial board means it’s time for Gov. Andrew Cuomo to stop trying to knock progressive challenger Zephyr Teachout off the ballot and to debate her instead. It’s a play on “teachable moment,” and it makes you wonder what’s intended to be taught.
103 comments:
pudlle and Howard are first!
thank you for the new thread, I thought to try to create one when I saw how long the old one was getting and alas I can get to the dashboard but it won't let me do anything. at least I can post, I am grateful for that!
I hope you all have a lovely day. xoxoxo
Yes, thank you for the new thread, Puddle..and Jo.
The quote is so appropriate for this blog. Love you all.
I am having a mighty fine time listening to "The Hobbit."
Voices add such dimension to the work. Find that true with all audio books. When my body says "hit the bed" but I am not sleepy it makes a fine evening!
So, thank you for Gandalf, Puddle!!!!!
Funny, Gandalf had been in draft since early June, lol! He stays with one.
Another lovely cool August day.
That he does! Brenda made a fine soup for our Sunday dinner this week. I think the four out of five of my young 'uns became good cooks in self defens. The four include my one son. I kept them healthy, but not really creative day after day!
Hi Friends,
Yes, Gandalf, a joy. Very warm day today. I'm tired. It seems since the floods in Sept. and our evacuation, we just go day by day. Our house should be finished with the staining and painting mid or end of next week. Then more events coming up.
Wildfires in California, toxic water in Ohio, earthquakes in Southern China, 16 foot waves in the Arctic Sea which was once frozen. Climate change is just political---Right!
And on my homepage, Senator Chambliss defends (torture) enhanced interrogation. President Obama is the first and only President to admit to torture. I think the radical right hates honesty, finds it makes them vulnerable.
Well, be well and take care.
One hundred years ago today, on 4 August 2014,
England declared war on Germany and WWI began.
We are invited to dim our lights Monday evening for one hour, in remembrance.
From the chapter "The Piper Pipes" in the book *Rilla of Ingleside* by Lucy Maud Montgomery, which follows perfectly the chronology of WWI, and deftly expresses the shift from a world of innocence to the throes of horrific war:
...Kenneth seemed in no hurry to suggest going back and when they did go back supper was in progress. He found a seat for her near the window of the lighthouse kitchen and sat on the sill beside her while she ate her ices and cake. Rilla looked about her and thought how lovely her first party had been. She would never forget it. The room re-echoed to laughter and jest. Beautiful young eyes sparkled and shone. From the pavilion outside came the lilt of the fiddle and the rhythmic steps of the dancers.
There was a little disturbance among a group of boys crowded about the door; a young fellow pushed through and halted on the threshold, looking about him rather sombrely. It was Jack Elliott from over-harbour—a McGill medical student, a quiet chap not much addicted to social doings. He had been invited to the party but had not been expected to come since he had to go to Charlottetown that day and could not be back until late. Yet here he was—and he carried a folded paper in his hand.
Gertrude Oliver looked at him from her corner and shivered again. She had enjoyed the party herself, after all, for she had foregathered with a Charlottetown acquaintance who, being a stranger and much older than most of the guests, felt himself rather out of it, and had been glad to fall in with this clever girl who could talk of world doings and outside events with the zest and vigour of a man. In the pleasure of his society she had forgotten some of her misgivings of the day. Now they suddenly returned to her. What news did Jack Elliott bring? Lines from an old poem flashed unbidden into her mind—"there was a sound of revelry by night"—"Hush! Hark! A deep sound strikes like a rising knell"—why should she think of that now? Why didn't Jack Elliott speak—if he had anything to tell? Why did he just stand there, glowering importantly?
"Ask him—ask him," she said feverishly to Allan Daly. But somebody else had already asked him. The room grew very silent all at once. Outside the fiddler had stopped for a rest and there was silence there too. Afar off they heard the low moan of the gulf—the presage of a storm already on its way up the Atlantic. A girl's laugh drifted up from the rocks and died away as if frightened out of existence by the sudden stillness.
"England declared war on Germany today," said Jack Elliott slowly. "The news came by wire just as I left town."
"God help us," whispered Gertrude Oliver under her breath. "My dream—my dream! The first wave has broken." She looked at Allan Daly and tried to smile.
"Is this Armageddon?" she asked.
"I am afraid so," he said gravely.
A chorus of exclamations had arisen round them—light surprise and idle interest for the most part. Few there realized the import of the message—fewer still realized that it meant anything to them. Before long the dancing was on again and the hum of pleasure was as loud as ever. Gertrude and Allan Daly talked the news over in low, troubled tones. Walter Blythe had turned pale and left the room. Outside he met Jem, hurrying up the rock steps.
continued…
"Have you heard the news, Jem?"
"Yes. The Piper has come. Hurrah! I knew England wouldn't leave France in the lurch. I've been trying to get Captain Josiah to hoist the flag but he says it isn't the proper caper till sunrise. Jack says they'll be calling for volunteers tomorrow."
"What a fuss to make over nothing," said Mary Vance disdainfully as Jem dashed off. She was sitting out with Miller Douglas on a lobster trap which was not only an unromantic but an uncomfortable seat. But Mary and Miller were both supremely happy on it. Miller Douglas was a big, strapping, uncouth lad, who thought Mary Vance's tongue uncommonly gifted and Mary Vance's white eyes stars of the first magnitude; and neither of them had the least inkling why Jem Blythe wanted to hoist the lighthouse flag. "What does it matter if there's going to be a war over there in Europe? I'm sure it doesn't concern us."
Walter looked at her and had one of his odd visitations of prophecy.
"Before this war is over," he said—or something said through his lips—"every man and woman and child in Canada will feel it—you, Mary, will feel it—feel it to your heart's core. You will weep tears of blood over it. The Piper has come—and he will pipe until every corner of the world has heard his awful and irresistible music. It will be years before the dance of death is over—years, Mary. And in those years millions of hearts will break."
That should read:
4 August 1914
Good Morning,
Another day. Listening to NPR, on the Israeli and Palestinian conflict, a policy of separation between the parties has been in effect for 20 years at least. We talked about South Africa and Apartheid. It certainly didn't work for South Africa, and Jim Crow and segregation didn't work for us. I wonder if the policy is even questioned.
Thank you, Listener, for the reading. We humans!
Have a good day today.
And Happy Birthday to our President today.
What a lovely, positive lot of posts. So good to see.
at work, so off to get some work done.
XOXOXOXXOXOXO
Wow. The President's birthday falls each each on the anniversary of England declaring war on Germany. Germany had declared war on France the day before. When England joined the fray, we had a larger event underway. This makes me watch events in the Middle East and Ukraine and Asia with attentiveness. Poignant that our President's birth shares the day.
I only discovered yesterday that the day the Archduke Ferdinand and his wife, Duchess Sophie, were assassinated [28 June 1914] was also their 14th wedding anniversary. That meant a lot to me, because 74 years after they were married, Bill and I were married, on 28 June 1974. So, it was the 60th anniversary of their assassination. We did not know.
Did you know that Sophie's casket was set a meter lower than her husband's because he had chosen to marry for love instead of duty. She had been a lady-in-waiting! The marriage was permitted with the understanding that none of their children could be his successors. They were considered to be of lower caste, and were not even permitted to attend their parents' funeral, due to their low standing!!! After all, wouldn't want such riff raff present with the high brows. Egads. There was, at least, another more low-key funeral for the children to attend. They were all so young.
I appreciate all the stories coming out from 2014-2018 about WWI. It is very good to put stories and faces with such events, to fully take in the human cost of war. War never solves anything. At best it delays something. But the angst always resurfaces, and war pushes hatred into the next generation.
Why can't the nice people run the world?
http://www.independent.ie/world-news/and-finally/secret-message-found-in-ww1-kilt-30456873.html
Rather bummed tonight. Two funerals to go to soon. The first is for beloved brother-in-law John (73), who was also the brother of a beloved sister-in-law. The other is for a young guy named Ben (23), whom we knew from the sailing school. He was freediving in the Bahamas and there was an accident of some sort. A vibrant and fabulous sailor. So sad!
I'm going to watch The King's Speech tonight, then go outside and look for meteors while we're observing lights out. C'mon world, let's do Peace for a change.
Lucky me. I happen to be in the one spot in Vermont where there's thunder and rain instead of a chance to see the night sky. Ah well.
fifty-year anniversary of the August 4, 1964 Gulf of Tonkin Incident
Wow, puddle. August 4th sure is an eventful day in history!
Thanks for the historical updates, ladies. I am very sorry about your losses, Listener. I had a short, but welcome visit by a grand-son from Michigan last evening. He was passing through GSO on their way to ome of the Carolina beaches. Full family will be back for a stop on Friday evening. Good to see him-- Brenda and I missed the family gathering at The Rock this year.
Happy 80th Birthday to another great story-teller, poet,
essayist and farmer-- Wendell Berry!!!!
Wendell ~~
Let me tell you
of my love for you
How you have set my blood
on fire, over
and over again.
A man I do not know
have never seen
and yet whose words
for close to fifteen years now
have spoken to me
over and over and over again
Have pierced my heart's home,
created light and love
and longing
Among my small human prides
is that I know a man who has stood
in your presence and conversed with you
about the ways of farming, and perhaps
of poetry, too, for he is a poet
as well as a dairyman
The webs of this world are a mystery to me,
but I know you have always been in this
child/girl/woman's heart, unknown and known
You have always been company and
companion
And I thank you for taking up
the traces early, and keeping to them:
The farm, the history
the prose, the poetry, the politics;
For walking the marges carefully
and remembering to bring them back
those little lights, those glimmers,
for remembering and sharing
and passing them on
I can never forget the possibility
of a farmer in Peru falling out of his field
and have the pictures from elsewhere
in the web to prove you right
had I ever had a moment of unbelief. . . .
I love you. And thank you.
jjl
8 July 2008
Lovely, Puddle. I have read it twice, will read it again. Just lovely, and the tribute to Phil within is a joy.
Hard rain here and lightning. Will be off the computer for a while.
Thank you for posting your poetry again, Puddle. I remember you sharing it with us the first year we had this blog. Do you know there is now a Wendell Berry Society?
Daughter Dana put it up for me. Let me see if I can get it.
Beautiful poem, puddle! Such a fitting tribute.
Such a testament to a life well lived.
Yours.
Ah, Puddle. Such a lovely poem. Thank you for sharing.
At work now, and when I get home, back to getting things ready for the Annual Summer Party, which this year, falls on my birthday again. Love it when that happens.
Took the sheer curtains in the living room down because they had gotten gray and dingy. Tossed in the washer and dryer and in an hour they were back up. I remember my mother with her curtain stretchers that she had to assemble and then stretch the curtains across the hundreds of tiny nails so that when it was dry, there would be no wrinkles. Took her all day to do all the curtains.
Thank goodness for modern day appliances.
Much love and many hugs to all.
I sure am with you on our conveniences, Pat! We spent so long without a dishwasher (of course, when the kids were little!), that to this day we are still seen opening the dishwasher and exclaiming, "The miracle happened again!"
Today I took a drive to visit a very dearly beloved friend so we could enjoy a delicious repast and have a great time talking about everything and nothing at all. Ahhhhhhhhhhhh~!!
Good Morning,
Wednesday at about 4 PM, I was talking to my sister when the phone went dead. So also our computers on Internet. A cable was the problem, and it was fixed yesterday at about the same time. How startling it is not to have phone and Internet. It's become an adjunct to our lives every day. Without it, there's a huge sense of isolation.
But, we're back, life is good, and wishing you all a good day.
Agree, Pat)--the first thing I do every morning after breakfast is check on family and friends! And has anyone heard from Puddle in the last two days? Wondering if her phone line is out again.
Nope, I'm fine. Just hibernating during the cold summer weather, lol!
.....which is moving this way also-- colder and possible
rain all this
week. I have already had my small electronic
space heater in the bedroom on early mornings. Not
looking forward to winter at all, at all!
Stay safe and warm!
Off to a baby shower for a family on the mountain. A small poem.
Wild Turkeys
They’re back, their pitchfork
feet marking the road in arrows.
Fields of Bee Balm, plenteous,
soft purple, violet, and they
meandering through, their heads
wagging, snacking on seeds.
Not a bad way to dine out,
cheeping like water dripping
clinking like glasses of wine.
Friday Saturday Sunday Monday Tuesday Wednesday Thursday Friday
Chance of a Thunderstorm
70° F | 58° F
Chance of a Thunderstorm
68° F | 59° F
Chance of Rain
69° F | 58° F
Chance of Rain
69° F | 60° F
Thunderstorm
72° F | 59° F
Chance of a Thunderstorm
70° F | 50° F
Clear
71° F | 51° F
Clear
70° F | 50° F
Expected high temps August 9--15. . . .
65°
63°
65°
68°
67°
67°
68°
68°
Good Morning,
The firehouse was decorated all in pink: balloons, flowers, ribbons, crepe paper, and about 50 people attended. More clothes than a dozen infants could wear.
Today, Daz Bog poetry meeting. Green Fuse Press is changing hands, so we'll discuss how to help make it successful. It's a huge undertaking, and so many small presses simply can't survive.
Krista Tippett who has her own show, On Being, on NPR was awarded the National Humanities Medal by our President. Joan Didion and others have received this. Here's what President Obama said:"On the air and in print, Ms. Tippett avoids easy answers, embracing complexity and inviting people of all faiths, no faith, and every background to join the conversation."
That's why I'm so grateful and happy we have him as President. Reading about Nixon and Watergate, he sent a representative to the Peace Talks saying that the U.S. wasn't interested in peace, trying to sabotage the talks. Good Grief, what the lust for power does, and how fortunate, mostly, we've been given the dictator like tendencies, the deceptions of people like Reagan, Nixon, George W. Bush.
Have a cheery day, friends.
Bedroom and living room heaters on today. My creaky bones don't work well under 70 degrees. Thanks for the
forecast, Puddle. Looks about like this area.
Stay warm, watch movies, read etc.:)
40 years ago today, at noon, Richard Nixon left the White House by helicopter. . . .
I don't believe we've ever had a creepier president.
Never!!!!!!
Hi again,
Good meeting, good people. Here's the revised poem. As a friend of mine said,"Everyone needs an editor."
Wild Turkeys
They’re back, their pitchfork
feet marking the road in arrows.
Fields of bee balm, plenteous,
soft purple, violet, and they
meandering through, their heads
wagging, snacking on seeds,
cheeping liquid exclamations
clinking like glasses of wine.
Not a bad way to dine out.
And yes, Nixon was a complicated, driven, vicious man, though that wasn't his entire character. He did approve the EPA among other things.
I'm so tired. This summer has been one activity after another. I don't sleep well, wake at 4 or earlier. Gosh, getting old just isn't anything we're used to, but, everything teaches.
Hope you night is pleasant.
good morning sunshines! I hope you are all doing well today.
I think that it's good that we look back on history and reflect. to see the wrongdoing of past leaders and yet not let the bad overshadow the good takes a fair mind and a compassionate heart. to be open like that makes it possible to learn from past mistakes but not be paralyzed by them. I think our President is good at doing this, much to the chagrin of many democrats!! but it bodes well for all of us I think.
thank you for the poems and life stories and wisdom that you share here ladies. <3
Good Morning,
It's good to hear from you, Jo.
Oh what a difference a good night's sleep makes. Suddenly, instead of stumbling down a ladder, I'm up and walking in the meadow. Optimism, appreciation, purpose.
Have a good day, friends.
Jo--you made me realize that I have one thing for which I need to thank the Nixon administration. It was a combination grant/loan for the year I was at University of Michigan earning the library degree. I applied and honestly included all of my expected expenses. This included not only tuition, books etc but funds for a once a week overnight stay in Ann Arbor and car expenses.
I was driving 90 miles each way and needed some energy left to pay attention to my family. I remember digging
up some information at the time. It involved a long time
Dem still in office who thought these grants/loans should be eliminated--but Nixon made decision to
keep them. It was a period when university librarians
were in very short supply. It came as a grant, but I
faithfully trotted over to MSU admin building every
month and repaid. I was hired in April while at UM for
a job at MSU that needed to be filled in September.
So--yes there was a need and I owe Mr.Nixon a thank
you for that! Hope I haven't told this story previously.
Good morning, Ladies. Yes, Nixon resigned on my birthday. My mother sent me the local paper with the headline above which she wrote, "Happy Birthday!"
We had a grand and glorious party with wonderful loving friends. All the hard work we did, cleaning up the yard, landscaping, cooking and cleaning paid off. It's so good to see so many diverse people playing musical chairs and enjoying each other.
We had 4 different areas with between 6 - 8 seats and people would get up to get something to drink or get some more food and someone else would take their seat so they'd move on to another area. I felt so loved and appreciated. It is good for one's soul.
My daughter and a good friend came early and both just know exactly what needs to be done and pitched in and got it done. By the time guests really started arriving, everything was in place. Can't tell you how much stress that took off me.
AND, many many wonderful FB posts. I have to get over there and thank folks. After I get my meds set out in my pill boxes so that I can take the meds I usually take at 7am. HAHAHAHA. Didn't wake up until 11:30, a personal best.
much love and many hugs to all my wonderful friends here.
Now comes the clean
Hurrah for Barb and family and friends!!! Rest up!
This is where my first awareness of Nixon came from. . . .
Helen Gahagan Douglas. She was one of only a handful of women in the House of Representatives between 1945 and 1951 (and the only one there in 1947), and would have been the fourth woman ever elected to the U.S. Senate had she not lost to Richard Nixon in what is widely considered the dirtiest political campaign in American history.
Other methods employed by the Nixon campaign were even more sinister. In 1950, fear of Communism went hand-in-hand with anti-Semitism, since many of the leaders of the Russian Revolution were Jewish, and many American Jews were known to have a leftist or progressive outlook. Nixon’s aides decided to investigate the rumor that Douglas’s husband was Jewish and that his real surname was not Douglas. They managed to uncover that he was, in fact, half-Jewish, and that his last name was Hesselberg, which a theater producer persuaded him to change in the late 1920s. Soon, Nixon began deliberately “slipping” in his public speeches, calling his rival “Helen Hesselberg” before “correcting” himself.
http://barnardarchives.wordpress.com/2002/08/13/helen-gahagan-douglas/
This is from Johnson (another President I don't like, lol!):”The Great Society had a real chance to grow into a beautiful woman. I figured she’d be so big and beautiful that the American people couldn’t help but fall in love with her…but now Nixon has come along and everything I’ve worked for is ruined…She’s getting thinner and thinner and uglier and uglier all the time. The American people will refuse to look at her; they’ll stick her in a closet to hide her away and there she’ll die. And when she dies, I, too, will die.” — Lyndon B. Johnson, on the Nixon Administration’s dismantling of many of LBJ’s Great Society programs, 1970
Time four with The West Wing. Prez Bartlet is in Beijing. With all these Cantonese actors, lol! Also like to remark that no one who speaks Putonghua sez Bayzhing. . . . It's a really simple "jing" as in jingle bells, and why American speakers want to make more of it, I have no idear.
so glad that you had a nice birthday Barb!
puddle that's good to know, any time I've heard it said it sounds like Bezhing. funny 'mericuns. LOL!
and 3 cheers for a good might's sleep!
A few episodes ago, the presidents (current and former) are going to the funeral of President Lassiter, and the short term (several days) president was talking about being in
Beijing, at the Great Hall of the People, and not being able to find the bathrooms, he and Lassiter went outside and were peeing in the bushes together, while chatting. And I had to laugh: the chance of finding ornamental bushes anywhere in China is skimpy. . . . Same as grass. Chinese believe such things cause mosquitoes. . . . No one who'd been there could have written those lines.
Barb, the party sounded lovely1!! And Jo's right about a good sleep, lol!
A brother-in-law died last weekend, and we are planning to go to the memorial service next weekend. Last evening I was asked by his sisters to officiate at the service. Their minister (whose wife died less than six months ago) is away on a much needed two week vacation and all the usual fill-ins are unavailable. I said I'd do it. They are still seeking a minister, and I'd be fine with that panning out. But if not, I'll step in. It can't be harder than officiating at my own mother's funeral 13 years ago this week, right? Meanwhile, I am pulling together a liturgy that meets their needs.
John was a gentle soul who was easy to like. He was a civil engineer who built bridges and was a recovering alcoholic for 20+ years, who helped many many people suffering from addiction. He was 73 and died of heart related issues.
Lovely thing to do, listener. Sounds like a nice guy. Lot to be said for that, eh? Lot rarer than it ought to be. xox
Howdy this Morning,
A nice day ahead. Puddle, I have to smile. You are right about Jing. I'm thinking that maybe American announcers are confused by the zh, thinking it should be Zhzzz.
On the other hand, America is pronounced Mei Guo (May Guahh), "Beautiful Country". As you know, of course. Those Chinese! I'm laughing. Aren't cultures wonderful!
Will be trying to go camping, doing some poetry readings, and finishing the staining of the house, so will be off for a while. Take good care of yourselves and each other.
Sorry for your loss, Listener. Very nice of you to help.
We all need support. Love to all. Rainy and cool here
in GSO.
I'm thinking about taking some leave time from facebook. So many of my friends are animal savers. Truth is, I'm 'bout exhausted and nauseated from looking at all the abused and tortured animals. . . . Kittens, dogs, dolphins, seals, turtles, horses. . . . Wish everyone could/would remember they are but one of dozens of friends posting the same ugly, sad, miserable message daily. Almost feels like a perverse form of voyeurism.
I agree there, Puddle. I find myself scrolling so much. Then, when you "like" something, up pops 3 ads at minimum. not much room or time for actually catching up with friends.
59.4 °-- and nowhere on my local weather map (over into Virginia) is it as high as 70º. . . .
so sorry listener. love and light to you and all of his family and friends.
for some good news, Zephyr won the challenge that Cuomo used to try to keep her off the ballot!! here's her statement: http://www.teachoutwu.com/statement_we_won
YAY Zephyr
Cuomo's going to challenge that. . . . But she looks better n better n better.
Am absolutely speechless about the loss of Mork. Amazing man he was. So sad his demons beat him.
That Robin Williams was someone who made so many people laugh and smile, but was felled by depression, seems the cruelest way for his life to end. As I hold this open, though, I see more deeply than ever before what an amazing victory every day he lived was. Such a talent and what a struggle! He only lost that struggle once.
{{{ {{ Hurrah for Zephyr!!! }} }}}
Today I went to a staff meeting at the Library which was twice as long as usual. Then I spent four hours puling together a worthy liturgy for John's "celebration of life" service. Then I worked in the garden for an hour and a half and got 8 lilies planted. Then I spent four more hours formatting the liturgy into a service leaflet. It's amazingly comical how hard it was for me to work out which page had to go onto which sheet of paper to end up in order once you fold the pages together into a leaflet! LOL! Now all that remains is to obtain a good black and white photo of John for the cover and to see if one more loved one is willing to read a poem at the service. Once I have that, I can print the leaflets on Wednesday. I can't tell you how much it means to me to be allowed to create this liturgy!! There are so many times when a loved one dies and there is nothing useful one can do for the bereaved family. But here I am doing something really useful and meaningful which can actually help them through some of the sharpest grieving. I have the great privilege of lightening their load and giving them a path through the mire. It has uplifted my spirits as little else ever has.
Make sure you tell the people you love how wonderful they are. ♥
tears for Mork...
Lauren Bacall--RIP
Stroke;89. . . .
My heart is broken every time someone dies, and it breaks twice when the person dies too young.
I have been super focused on getting the memorial service ready for Saturday. Clergy are under-valued!! There are so many details. For example, I need to call the restaurant tomorrow to see if they have a small table, relatively high, which can be used to display the urn. Fortunately, I have some beautiful altar linens that a friend left to me some years ago. I am mentally exhaustified and heading to bed! Sleep!!! Ahhhhhhhh!!!
Good Morning,
Not camping yet, but soon we hope. House stained.
Listener, thank you for sharing your ministry with us. Your knowledge and experience, your compassion, and the preparations are beautiful. I think that's what makes community: being there for one another, giving our best, and recognizing that we all share in those events and experiences that make us human on this earth.
I hope you day is good.
'Nother cool clammy August day. . . .
On the up side, starting The West Wing for time five. Enjoying every minute of it: the characters, the actors, the story, the writing, the sets, the background, the historical references. Name it.
A couple dozen years back, my baby brother lost his eldest daughter, seven, in an ATV accident. I was stunned and tongue-tied for a couple of days. I knew I had to talk to him, *say* something, and I had no words. I finally dialed. And found the words: This is NOT our home.
I have felt since that death is graduation. Our tears are for ourselves, our missing them in our lives.
He said later that the hardest part of going on, of raising the other two, was trying to keep them safe without locking them in a room to do so. To let them have lives despite the inherent, innate unsafety of life.
Good evening. Pat, your kind words were as manna for me just now. I spoke with my sister-in-law tonight; the service on Saturday is for her older brother. He was like a father to her as their father died when she was only 4, and her brother was 15.
I was surprised to hear her say that she is letting the service be styled entirely for what her older sister wants. I'm not so sure it really speaks to who this man was, and I'm sad to think she didn't want anything included specifically for her own expression of grief or her own comfort. And helping her give this gift to her older sister is a worthy enough offering.
Yet…after asking me to provide a place in the service for everyone to share stories of John, there is no one in the family who is planning to speak…! No eulogy, no stories to share. I have never ever experienced a memorial service that has no memories! Moreover, only one family member and his 7 year old daughter are willing to read a reading or poem. So my dear husband will read one poem. But the rest is up to me. I'm fine with reading, but it seems almost disrespectful for folks to be so hands off. But, I suppose, simply coming shows respect. I am really mystified about this. Is it the post-Christian-era thing or what?
Thanks, Barb! ♥
Yes, puddle, I so believe that we go on to something more when we die to this plane of existence. It's just like the story of the Waterbugs and Dragonflies.
http://www.beliefnet.com/columnists/angelsonyourshoulder/2011/11/waterbugs-and-dragonflies.html
You know listener my brothers and I could not speak at my Mom's memorial, it wasn't out of disrespect it was out of pain. Everyone expresses their pain differently.
Agree, Jo--and members of families are different. We had only memorial services for each of my parents. They each had had nasty long term problems-- cancer and Alzheimer's. They were both in their. 80's. Perhaps we
are a more talkative family, but there was no problem
telling stories, memories, laughter. Held at a family
member's home. The memory of those gatherings are
dear.
Oh Shirlee, we had more than 2 hours of remembrances and tears and laughter with 100s of family and friends prior to the 15 minute memorial - we just didn't speak to the entire crowd during the memorial, we were pretty broken up so a dear friend spoke for us.
we had 100s of photos and those were the best part, they really stimulated the memories and conversations. in my father's case my brother had made a video collage that was running all the time and also many photos around. for Mom he didn't have time to do the video but we had photos everywhere and even a cribbage board with a 'hand' of cards laid out that was the highest counting hand you can get which Mom got more than once. it was her favorite game and she beat all of us often!
listener, prolly as many idears of how to do things right as there are people. I was startled in my 30's to be told by a preacher's daughter that Mormons didn't *feel* Christian to her because they lacked a commonality with the church she grew up in. The year, the form of meetings and prayers. . . .
I personally hated the changes in the mass--I loved the Latin, and the new forms don't even seem like worship to me.
Jo, I totally understand! It's just so strange that not one person seems able and willing. Why bother to have a place for it, then? I guess we'll see what the moment brings.
Well, I called the restaurant to ask if they have a small table for the urn, and spoke with a co-owner...and guess what. The plan had been to have us gather in Dining Room #2, using about half the dining room, and that would not be private...! They thought we would simply be having the after-party there! When I explained the real situation she said they'd put us on the enclosed patio instead so it would be quieter with privacy. =Whew!!=. They will have a 2x4' table for the urn should we need one, and bringing a candle is fine.
Bill and I are more sure than ever that our own service will be done by clergy and in a church. We plan to create the liturgy we want and have the leaflet for it all ready to print, so that all our kids have to do is add the date and print some up. It is just so much easier on family to have this part figured out ahead.
I am still very happy to help for this gathering. I'm just not sure it's really what they need.
puddle, have you ever seen the movie
While You Were Sleeping ?
It has SUCH great dialogue, and your note about liturgy reminded me of it.
They're in church and the grandmother says, "I liked the mass better in Latin." Then she adds, "It's much nicer when you don't know what they're saying."
;-)
I once took a Liturgics class. During the course of the semester, the instructor performed the Eucharist for us, beginning with a really old Latin version. Over time, he used newer and newer versions all the way through to the current version of the Eucharistic liturgy. It was done in a large, beautiful church, with Tiffany windows and woodwork. When the mass was said all in Latin, with the priest's back to the people, with no congregational responses, and only the priest partaking of the bread and wine, I found myself growing restless and bored. I got up and started walking along the edge of the church looking at the beautiful windows with great interest, all the while listening to the liturgy. Suddenly I realised that I was just like those early pilgrims at a Latin mass! Many of them were illiterate, and the original reason that Bible events were depicted in stained glass windows was to be something of a pictorial Bible for people who could never have read the Scriptures for themselves. In that regard, I felt my response was incredibly apropos. In fact, it was only required of people that they be present for the moment when the priest lifted up the bread and chalice, for it to count that they had attended…!
listener I am sure that it will be well in the moment. we didn't have a set schedule other than how long we would be in the funeral home and it was wonderful, very spontaneous, many people that we hadn't seen in decades showed up for both of my parents' memorials. the woman who arranged the memorial for my Mom is a good friend of mine and she came to the cemetery the next day to say prayers with us. it was lovely.
btw, I really liked that movie. Sandra Bullock has played some of my favorite roles!
Too funny, listener--with my little Marion missal, I knew every word the priest was saying. . . . and loved the idear that I would anywhere in the world. . . . plus Latin turned out to be *my* foreign language.
Got more memories at my mom's yard sale than either the hours at the mortuary or the funeral.
I guess we'll see.
One of his sisters told me she doesn't expect anyone except family, which counts to 29. I sincerely hope she's wrong and his friends come and tell great stories. Send good vibes, I'll need them. ♥
Just watched online the old TV movie "Maybe I'll Come Home in the Spring" starring Sally Field. I hadn't seen it since I was 16. I'd forgotten how it ends.
YAY! Eye exam - check. Dermatologist - check. Mammogram - check. Annual Physical - check. Knees X-rayed - check. Only Cardiologist left to do and that will be Tuesday. My annual birthday present to myself is just about complete!
You'll do just fine, Listener. You have done enough prep work to be assured of that.
Much love and many hugs to all. Off to concentrate at work and actually get something done.
Thanks for the.movie tips, ladies. I am always looking for titles to add to,my Netflix list.
Things will work out, Listener. Maybe all we can expect of a group of folks in this situation is that they be kind.
Thinking of you.
Have to call this the Fudgesicle® summer, lol!
Hope it soon turns into a lovely warm soft chocolate autumn for you. Ah, but then follows the reign of
The Snow Queen!
♥ with listener as she goes about her day today.
Bright, windy, and a bit warmer (and welcomed) today.
Funny, despite the hard long winter, this hasn't felt like a long spring nor an early autumn. Just an strangely cold muggy summer. . . .
yes, blessings to listener and the family and loved ones today.
puddle this is one of the nicest summers that we've had in a long time. only a couple of days near 90, a bit of rain during the week but gorgeous weekends, only a couple with a bit of rain. I think Reed's part of the state has had more storms but the temps have been mostly in the high 70 and low 80s with cool breezes most nights, down in the 50s. I'm sorry that you aren't getting similar, it has been beautiful. it's a bit cloudy and cool today but is going to improive soon.
Thanks for all the kind words! Your good vibes definitely mattered.
It was quite an experience. We got there, and the service was indeed set up on the enclosed patio as promised. Actually, it was more like a diner in shape and affect...and we would all be sitting in booths. And even though they had cordoned off much of the patio, they began seating other people down the other end! Plus, the restaurant was unable to turn off the pop music or the "number 7, your order is ready" speakers...! So, we opted to all go outside and have the service in the parking lot, since we were at a side of the building where only our cars were. The restaurant is beside a salt marsh, so I stood with my back to the marsh, with the sun in my eyes, so the group could be looking out at the marsh, instead of at the parking lot and cars. It went fine from there. The family was sure no one wanted to speak, but 4 or 5 did, and I added something too.
John's sisters thanked me, very sweetly. But my favourite comment came from my young adult nephew who said it was just right and "very John." We all agreed that the best part was doing it outside, since John was very outdoorsy, and just as we were reading together The Serenity Prayer a tour plane flew low overhead. :-)
Warmer today. Got to switch from warm fuzzies to a cotton dress! YAY!
KINDNESS by Naomi Shihab Nye (today's shared poem)
"Before you know what kindness really is
you must lose things,
feel the future dissolve in a moment
like salt in a weakened broth.
What you held in your hand,
what you counted and carefully saved,
all this must go so you know
how desolate the landscape can be
between the regions of kindness.
How you ride and ride
thinking the bus will never stop,
the passengers eating maize and chicken
will stare out the window forever.
Before you learn the tender gravity of kindness,
you must travel where the Indian in a white poncho
lies dead by the side of the road.
You must see how this could be you,
how he too was someone
who journeyed through the night with plans
and the simple breath that kept him alive.
Before you know kindness as the deepest thing inside,
you must know sorrow as the other deepest thing.
You must wake up with sorrow.
You must speak to it till your voice
catches the thread of all sorrows
and you see the size of the cloth.
Then it is only kindness that makes sense anymore,
only kindness that ties your shoes
and sends you out into the day to mail letters and purchase bread,
only kindness that raises its head
from the crowd of the world to say
it is I you have been looking for,
and then goes with you everywhere
like a shadow or a friend."
from Phil
Kiddle showed up just at dark, carrying groceries, and has burned my trash, vacuumed my living room, and is cleaning my kitchen. Plus I got a hug!
Twice last evening I tried to post a little more about John's service, but each time the post disappeared before I could post it. Then my note, to ask you to remind me that there are two things to tell you, met the same fate. So let me try again.
We deliberately started the service a half hour later than announced, to allow folks to arrive. Near the end of the service six more people arrived, and all were in their 70's, one in a wheelchair. Two had gone to school with John, one to tech school with him and three had worked with John building bridges. It was too bad they missed most of the service, but they did get a leaflet with the service in it. Those who had a John-story to share still got to tell it to John's sisters. That all went well.
The other thing I meant to share is that in the morning I sat at our daughter's kitchen table alone, and just held still. Then I asked, "Is it going to be okay?" and my interior peace barometer sank down into the depths about half way. This is hard to describe. Think of a well of peace, and my bucket making it down about half way into the depths. So it seemed things would be okay. Then I asked, "Will it also be difficult?" and the peace went much further down, meaning, Yes, it would be difficult. Prayer for me either goes this way, and is spot on, or I cannot tell anything whatsoever. While it rattled me just a little to know it could be difficult, it was a comfort to know it would also be okay.
I am very grateful.
Ah, puddle, all is good, but the HUG is the best!! :-)
Listener, your family and friends must be very grateful.
Maybe we all have unplumbed depths of strength and peace.
Boy departed about half an hour ago. Water tank full, car battery jumped, flat tire inflated (but he couldn't change it: lugs welded)--gotta call the garage tomorrow. Hugs all around. We discussed finding a helper to come in from time to time to vacuum, wash stuff, etc. . . .
Ah, Shirlee, I'm sure we all have unplumbed depths. That's part of what makes us spiritual beings, as we can never comprehend all that God/Holy is. It is also true that we do not use all of our brainpower. I think our bodies couldn't take it. You know, like cell phone batteries! Ha!
RIP Jim Jeffords. And thank you for serving Vermont so well. Thank you for serving our country so well when you shook things up in the Senate.
http://digital.vpr.net/post/former-senator-jim-jeffords-dead-80
Phil Specht
1 hr ·
The Host
The unleavened wafer dissolving
the hospital hospitality
now as thin.
as the Priest's gift.
Routine it never is
when knife meets flesh.
Now in celebration of life
eternal
a God of our liking
calms the storm
and says cast your net
for the fish are on this side.
So a boat is on the water
wine glass ring tone reminder
to share life while it is offered.
This life, where pole still bends
"had one on", "set the hook"
Ah, thank you, Phil ...via Puddle. This is one to read again and again.
Puddle, I totally agree with your son. I have a weekly helper who does the laundry-- which must be taken to
the community laundry room in the basement, cleans
my apartment, etc. MORE than worth the money.
It relieves Brenda who does grocery shopping and major doc appointments. Having a helper is the only way I
can still live alone. I am determined to do that as long as
I can!!!
Has anybody else seen the article on Zephyr in this week's New Yorker? First article in the August 25 issue!!
Long and in -depth with very neat photo. "The Crooked and The Dead" by JIll Lepore. Should give her a boost nationally.
Shirlee! I'll look for that article at the Library tomorrow!
And I agree. Some help for you, puddle, seems a good thing. ♥
Shirlee I went looking for tha and found this from today! Oh so exciting! let the debate begin!!! clip... It’s official: The New York Times says we’re having “a Teachout moment,” by which the paper’s editorial board means it’s time for Gov. Andrew Cuomo to stop trying to knock progressive challenger Zephyr Teachout off the ballot and to debate her instead. It’s a play on “teachable moment,” and it makes you wonder what’s intended to be taught.
http://www.salon.com/2014/08/19/challenger_zephyr_teachout_%E2%80%9Candrew_cuomo_has_been_such_a_failure_as_a_democrat%E2%80%9D/
New thread!!
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