Yesterday as I headed out in the afternoon for a meeting at the courthouse, a deer bounded from behind the pine tree and through the field next door.
Little Winkin' raced along behind her mother, tearing up the ground at an amazing pace. She looked like a little racing dog zipping up the the track.
She made me laugh. I had my camera but I could not get it out fast enough for a picture.
Tuesday, June 17, 2008
Sunday, June 15, 2008
Books of Fiction
Playing with the Grown Ups
By Sophie Dahl
270 pages
Copyright 2007
3.5 stars
Souvenir,
By Theresa Fowler
363 pages
Copyright 2008
4.5 stars
The House on Fortune Street
By Margaret Fowler
315 pages
Copyright 2008
3 stars
By Sophie Dahl
270 pages
Copyright 2007
3.5 stars
Souvenir,
By Theresa Fowler
363 pages
Copyright 2008
4.5 stars
The House on Fortune Street
By Margaret Fowler
315 pages
Copyright 2008
3 stars
Saturday, June 14, 2008
Books: Summer Island
Summer Island
By Kristin Hannah
Read by Joyce Bean
Audiobook: Abridged
Copyright 2001
Nora Bridge left her two daughters, Ruby and Caroline, ostensibly to seek her fortune. Caroline forgave her; Ruby did not.
Events bring the mother and hard-hearted daughter together for a week, where truths are revealed, lessons are learned, and love and family reach their epoch.
Nice story about forgiveness, which is surely something the world needs more of
3 stars
By Kristin Hannah
Read by Joyce Bean
Audiobook: Abridged
Copyright 2001
Nora Bridge left her two daughters, Ruby and Caroline, ostensibly to seek her fortune. Caroline forgave her; Ruby did not.
Events bring the mother and hard-hearted daughter together for a week, where truths are revealed, lessons are learned, and love and family reach their epoch.
Nice story about forgiveness, which is surely something the world needs more of
3 stars
Friday, June 13, 2008
Books: Flirting With Pete
Flirting With Pete
By Barbara Delinsky
Read by Linda Emond
Audiobook
Copyright 2003
Delinsky serves up a bit of a psychological thriller in this one. Jenny is a lonely girl with a very evil father; Casey is a therapist who doesn't know her own father at all. As the story progresses, their paths cross in interesting ways.
The reader did a nice job, too.
3 stars
By Barbara Delinsky
Read by Linda Emond
Audiobook
Copyright 2003
Delinsky serves up a bit of a psychological thriller in this one. Jenny is a lonely girl with a very evil father; Casey is a therapist who doesn't know her own father at all. As the story progresses, their paths cross in interesting ways.
The reader did a nice job, too.
3 stars
Thursday, June 12, 2008
Books: On Agate Hill
On Agate Hill
By Lee Smith
384 pages
Copyright 2006
An interesting look at life after the Civil War in the southern state. Smith begins with the premise that a graduate student has come across an old journal and other historic papers relating to Molly Petree. Then the reader sees the journal.
Molly, a young orphan, is being cared for at her uncle's plantation. She keeps a journal, and this is what we read. His fortunes change with the war, and then his health fails. Molly has a benefactor, an old flame of her mother's, who sends her off to a girl's school in Virginia.
The story picks up with letters from one of her teachers, and then ends with Molly's journal.
Interesting reading, particularly if you like historical fiction.
4 stars
By Lee Smith
384 pages
Copyright 2006
An interesting look at life after the Civil War in the southern state. Smith begins with the premise that a graduate student has come across an old journal and other historic papers relating to Molly Petree. Then the reader sees the journal.
Molly, a young orphan, is being cared for at her uncle's plantation. She keeps a journal, and this is what we read. His fortunes change with the war, and then his health fails. Molly has a benefactor, an old flame of her mother's, who sends her off to a girl's school in Virginia.
The story picks up with letters from one of her teachers, and then ends with Molly's journal.
Interesting reading, particularly if you like historical fiction.
4 stars
Wednesday, June 11, 2008
Happy Birthday Grandma and Grandpa
Today is my maternal grandmother's birthday. She would have been 85. She died last June 28.
My last visit with my grandmother while she had consciousness was on this day last year. My aunt, my cousin and his wife, and I went to celebrate her 84th birthday.
In the waning days of her life, Grandma's mind wandered. When we walked in she greeted us but in the latter days of her life she stopped using names. For the last six months of her life I wasn't sure she knew who I was.
On this day she knew me because she told me my mother had been in earlier to see her.
My mother passed away in 2000.
Mom had fluffed her pillows and checked her pulse and then left. But she said she would be back, Grandma said.
A little later, Grandma asked, "What happened to your father?" She looked at my aunt, who said, "He isn't here."
Grandma looked very indignant. "He was here a while ago. He came in with you. That's just like him to leave before the party starts."
My grandfather died in 1976.
Shortly thereafter, perhaps the very next day, my grandmother lapsed into what I called a coma although I don't know if that is the proper word for it. I never saw her conscious again though I visited every few days. She had always been a little fey and I think she was seeing ghosts of people she loved as she prepared for her final journey on her last birthday.
Yesterday, June 10, would have been my Grandpa Joe's birthday, my father's father. Joe would have been close to 90 had he lived. He died in 1989 from lung problems caused by smoking and working in the West Virginia coal mines when he was young.
Grandpa Joe and Grandma Toots moved to California when I was a few months old. I seldom saw them; the first time I met them in person was in 1972, I think, when I was nine.
My grandfather and I hit it off immediately, apparently fashioned from the same cloth. Over the years we developed a letter correspondence and I learned more about him. He would have loved email had it been available to the public then.
He always teased me and said I was two days older than he was. Same joke every year. I never tired of it.
I knew the moment my grandfather died that October; I felt him pass even though he left us from the other side of the nation.
Grandpa left me a legacy of love of history, writing and music. Grandma left me a legacy of love of family. Between them I think I did alright.
My last visit with my grandmother while she had consciousness was on this day last year. My aunt, my cousin and his wife, and I went to celebrate her 84th birthday.
In the waning days of her life, Grandma's mind wandered. When we walked in she greeted us but in the latter days of her life she stopped using names. For the last six months of her life I wasn't sure she knew who I was.
On this day she knew me because she told me my mother had been in earlier to see her.
My mother passed away in 2000.
Mom had fluffed her pillows and checked her pulse and then left. But she said she would be back, Grandma said.
A little later, Grandma asked, "What happened to your father?" She looked at my aunt, who said, "He isn't here."
Grandma looked very indignant. "He was here a while ago. He came in with you. That's just like him to leave before the party starts."
My grandfather died in 1976.
Shortly thereafter, perhaps the very next day, my grandmother lapsed into what I called a coma although I don't know if that is the proper word for it. I never saw her conscious again though I visited every few days. She had always been a little fey and I think she was seeing ghosts of people she loved as she prepared for her final journey on her last birthday.
Yesterday, June 10, would have been my Grandpa Joe's birthday, my father's father. Joe would have been close to 90 had he lived. He died in 1989 from lung problems caused by smoking and working in the West Virginia coal mines when he was young.
Grandpa Joe and Grandma Toots moved to California when I was a few months old. I seldom saw them; the first time I met them in person was in 1972, I think, when I was nine.
My grandfather and I hit it off immediately, apparently fashioned from the same cloth. Over the years we developed a letter correspondence and I learned more about him. He would have loved email had it been available to the public then.
He always teased me and said I was two days older than he was. Same joke every year. I never tired of it.
I knew the moment my grandfather died that October; I felt him pass even though he left us from the other side of the nation.
Grandpa left me a legacy of love of history, writing and music. Grandma left me a legacy of love of family. Between them I think I did alright.
Tuesday, June 10, 2008
Yum
My husband was cutting hay last week and drove past the cherry tree planted by his aunt and uncle.
Every time he made a circle, he swiped cherries as he passed by.
A day later we asked if we could pluck a few of the berries and since the aunt and uncle are elderly and weren't going to pick them anyway, they didn't mind.
We picked five gallons. We gave the aunt and uncle a gallon, the in-laws a gallon, the neighbors a gallon.
Cherries are very good for you. They cure gout. Not that I have gout but my husband on occasion has had it. Cherry juice clears it up. Eating cherries is a good way to keep it away.
According to this website, cherries also help with arthritis, heart disease and inflammation. This website says they can help with weight loss.
Eat more cherries. You'll be glad you did.
Monday, June 09, 2008
A Wild Night
Yesterday to celebrate my birthday, we went to the Big City.
James needed chewing tobacco and we had to return the shirts he bought me as a present to exchange them for the right size. Then he took me to dinner at O'Charlie's.
I normally eat only a salad, but James insisted on an onion ring appetizer and a meal. I ordered the Caribbean shrimp, which came with a salad and a side order of veggies.
By the time I had eaten a few of the onion rings and the salad, I was about done. The main meal hadn't even arrived yet.
During a lull the waiter came over and was very chatty. I told him we were there to celebrate my husband's birthday, which was last Monday.
James told him no, we were celebrating my birthday. When we finished our meal, the waiter brought us each enormous slices of some kind of caramel pie, on the house.
I could not eat all of mine.
We went to bed at our usual 10 p.m. Not long after, I woke with my ear bothering me. My ear is weird in that it is super-sensitive to low frequencies, like when a truck growls. It vibrates deep in my ear and makes it itch and hurt. It was something like this. I finally decided it was a helicopter flying over.
I guess I went back to sleep. Suddenly I sat up and called out James' name. He woke immediately. He usually does not wake up if I'm just asking him to roll over to stop his snoring. I must have startled him with the urgency in my voice.
I was half asleep myself, but I told him to go get a Benedryl because my tongue was swelling. I felt like I was choking on something.
He looked at my tongue. "It isn't swelling," he said. "It looks normal to me." But he gave me a Benedryl anyway. He probably figured it would put me to sleep, which it did. They make me drowsy.
This has never happened before, by the way. I don't make a habit of waking him in the night asking for Benedryl.
The Dream
Then I dreamed my mother and I were on some kind of holiday at the beach. It was flooding and we couldn't find a hotel. Finally we wound up at this dumpy place and we settled into a room. My mother was on the phone with ... somebody, not sure who, and I realized I hadn't brought any clothes with me. My mother said she did not have her clothes, either.
I wanted to go to Walmart to buy clothes, but I ended up wandering around the streets. I saw that just down the road there was a motel called the Priscilla Grande and it looked a lot nicer than were we were staying. I went back to the room to find that my mother had had her clothes shipped to her overnight; there was about 100 bags.
I told her we should check out of the dumpy hotel and go to the really nice one. So we did, but when we got to the Priscilla Grande, we discovered it cost $46,000 a night for a room!
I think I must've had too much caramel pie even though I didn't eat but half of it.
James needed chewing tobacco and we had to return the shirts he bought me as a present to exchange them for the right size. Then he took me to dinner at O'Charlie's.
I normally eat only a salad, but James insisted on an onion ring appetizer and a meal. I ordered the Caribbean shrimp, which came with a salad and a side order of veggies.
By the time I had eaten a few of the onion rings and the salad, I was about done. The main meal hadn't even arrived yet.
During a lull the waiter came over and was very chatty. I told him we were there to celebrate my husband's birthday, which was last Monday.
James told him no, we were celebrating my birthday. When we finished our meal, the waiter brought us each enormous slices of some kind of caramel pie, on the house.
I could not eat all of mine.
We went to bed at our usual 10 p.m. Not long after, I woke with my ear bothering me. My ear is weird in that it is super-sensitive to low frequencies, like when a truck growls. It vibrates deep in my ear and makes it itch and hurt. It was something like this. I finally decided it was a helicopter flying over.
I guess I went back to sleep. Suddenly I sat up and called out James' name. He woke immediately. He usually does not wake up if I'm just asking him to roll over to stop his snoring. I must have startled him with the urgency in my voice.
I was half asleep myself, but I told him to go get a Benedryl because my tongue was swelling. I felt like I was choking on something.
He looked at my tongue. "It isn't swelling," he said. "It looks normal to me." But he gave me a Benedryl anyway. He probably figured it would put me to sleep, which it did. They make me drowsy.
This has never happened before, by the way. I don't make a habit of waking him in the night asking for Benedryl.
The Dream
Then I dreamed my mother and I were on some kind of holiday at the beach. It was flooding and we couldn't find a hotel. Finally we wound up at this dumpy place and we settled into a room. My mother was on the phone with ... somebody, not sure who, and I realized I hadn't brought any clothes with me. My mother said she did not have her clothes, either.
I wanted to go to Walmart to buy clothes, but I ended up wandering around the streets. I saw that just down the road there was a motel called the Priscilla Grande and it looked a lot nicer than were we were staying. I went back to the room to find that my mother had had her clothes shipped to her overnight; there was about 100 bags.
I told her we should check out of the dumpy hotel and go to the really nice one. So we did, but when we got to the Priscilla Grande, we discovered it cost $46,000 a night for a room!
I think I must've had too much caramel pie even though I didn't eat but half of it.
Sunday, June 08, 2008
Gemini, Gemini
I started blogging about five years ago, although this incarnation goes back only to 2006.
Few people knew about the first blog and I abandoned it after a year. I switched to AOL Journals but dumped that after two years.
Anonymity has always been a preference, and when I switched to Blue Country Magic I thought I would remain anonymous and no one would be the wiser.
However, I am too honest a person to maintain any semblance of self-secrecy for long. Once I linked to a couple of my articles the secret was out. And while you can't easily find this blog as being mine, once you've found the blog you can easily find out it belongs to me, if you can follow that.
I like to read local blogs, which were few in 2003 but are now prolific. And often when I comment it is obvious I am local because I know the local things. (Of course I read non-local blogs, too.)
Today is my birthday. Monday, June 2, was my husband's birthday.
We are both Gemini. He is the steady side of this astrological sign. His is a firefighter, a farmer, and a septic tank installer. He believes in hard work. At this very moment is he mowing the yard.
He likes NASCAR racing, getting dirty, tractors, cows and other manly things.
I'm the, um, not so steady one. I am a writer, a thinker, a reader and a creator (photographer). At various times I have also been a legal secretary, a paralegal, and a machine parts salesperson. I like poetry, good books, mild weather, learning about almost anything and watching people and animals.
I try not to use names on this blog, not my own or my friends. I still value anonymity and privacy and all of that. Today, though I will make an exception.
This is James. Happy 49th Birthday, my love.
This is Anita. Happy 45th Birthday to me.
Few people knew about the first blog and I abandoned it after a year. I switched to AOL Journals but dumped that after two years.
Anonymity has always been a preference, and when I switched to Blue Country Magic I thought I would remain anonymous and no one would be the wiser.
However, I am too honest a person to maintain any semblance of self-secrecy for long. Once I linked to a couple of my articles the secret was out. And while you can't easily find this blog as being mine, once you've found the blog you can easily find out it belongs to me, if you can follow that.
I like to read local blogs, which were few in 2003 but are now prolific. And often when I comment it is obvious I am local because I know the local things. (Of course I read non-local blogs, too.)
Today is my birthday. Monday, June 2, was my husband's birthday.
We are both Gemini. He is the steady side of this astrological sign. His is a firefighter, a farmer, and a septic tank installer. He believes in hard work. At this very moment is he mowing the yard.
He likes NASCAR racing, getting dirty, tractors, cows and other manly things.
I'm the, um, not so steady one. I am a writer, a thinker, a reader and a creator (photographer). At various times I have also been a legal secretary, a paralegal, and a machine parts salesperson. I like poetry, good books, mild weather, learning about almost anything and watching people and animals.
I try not to use names on this blog, not my own or my friends. I still value anonymity and privacy and all of that. Today, though I will make an exception.
This is James. Happy 49th Birthday, my love.
This is Anita. Happy 45th Birthday to me.
Saturday, June 07, 2008
I Supported Hillary
Stay with me, dear readers, especially those of you who I know supported Obama. I read your missives; surely you can deal with this singular post of mine.
Don't worry; I'm still on the moderate-to-left side of the political spectrum. My vote will reflect that, regardless of candidate.
However, if your must comment and it as hate-filled as your own posts about your distaste of the female population have often been, don't waste your time here. A few of you, whom I used to read regularly but don't visit so often now because of your obvious distaste for your mothers, wives, sisters and daughters as portrayed in your venomous diatribes against the woman who would be president, can just go on about your day elsewhere. Come back tomorrow for the un-political me.
First, I will say why I supported Hillary. She had substance. Here are the points she made that I appreciated:
She noticed that there is a class war going on and that the middle class is under siege.
I liked her health care plan better than anyone else's, although I don't think it goes far enough. Our health care, to put it simply, is terrible. It needs a complete overhaul. We'd be better off bartering for chickens.
I appreciated her willingness to confront the Iraq issue. Yes, I know she voted for the war. I also think that she and the majority of Congress were spoon fed the BS that the Bush Administration put forth to get this war started so the good ol' boys at Halliburton could have their fun. I give her the benefit of the doubt on this issue because I think she voted based on the misinformation that was available at that time. And as for Obama, well, he wasn't in the senate when the vote took place, so you can pretty much say whatever you want after the fact when you're not there in the hot seat.
I felt like Hillary Clinton would take a lead on women's issues, which have been seriously neglected and indeed stomped on and shoved beneath the table by the Bush Administration.
Which brings me to the main reason for this post. I have been utterly appalled at the media sexism in this primary season. The lack of respect for Hillary portrayed by the media, and by various bloggers, has shown me that many men out there still believe they should be king of the castle, without a queen, and are badly in want of only a scullery maid to wash their clothes and soothe their poor little minnow-sized manhood.
I am not sure what to think about the women who bashed the first potential female candidate for president. I think perhaps they feared the loss of their position as scullery maid because they weren't ready for the promotion to queen. Maybe they like it down on their knees.
Please note that I am referring only to Hillary-bashers of both sexes. If you didn't support her because you disagreed with her issues or whatever, but still managed to respect her run for office, that's something else again. I have no quarrel with you; that is your right.
But the bashing was intense. Many men in particular and this mostly-male driven media, should be ashamed of themselves. I daresay they hold their chin up and go on about their day because they think they have won. Well, they may have gotten their candidate but they have certainly lost a great deal of respect not only from me but from a good portion of the population - the female side, that is.
I know we don't count, of course. We are, after all, the inferior sex in your mind.
If this primary has shown anything, it is that the women of my generation failed miserably by not picking up the reigns on the issues of women's equality. Obviously lip service only has been paid to this idea for the last 30 years.
True equality among the sexes in this country has been shown for what it is - a farce. The glass ceiling is as solid as it was in 1950. For every instance you can give me of a woman at the top, I can give you 1,000 of a place where she is not.
Sexual discrimination is a very real issue. White males in particular have never experienced this and so are clueless as to the very real pain this can cause.
I have experienced it and continue to experience it nearly every day of my life, and let me tell you, it is incredibly frustrating and demoralizing to be held back simply because you're female.
And it is humiliating to be grabbed up and fondled by the computer repairman just because he thinks he has that right. (Yes, that happened, and yes, I attempted to prosecute; he fled the state.)
To be dismissed simply because you can have a baby is extremely discouraging. It does nothing for your self esteem, let me tell you. It's not like we can change it.
The treatment men have given Hillary - calling her names, telling her to go home and iron their shirts - has only brought all of this sexual discrimination home. I see it everywhere, from the way I am treated by my physician to the way I am dismissed when I have a complaint at the supermarket.
It has not been pleasant to be reminded so constantly and consistently by the media that all I apparently am good for is doing the laundry.
It is not okay for the media to be so sexist. It's not okay to joke about pantsuits or how a woman laughs or to make fun of the women who so passionately supported Hillary Clinton for president.
I don't need a daddy to take care of me. I need a strong and powerful leader who would champion the people, not just their rich and powerful friends.
For me, that was Hillary Clinton.
As far as I'm concerned, the Democratic party has been completely disrespectful to women, and frankly, it owes us all, everyone of us, and in particular Hillary Clinton, a very big and heartfelt apology.
Don't worry; I'm still on the moderate-to-left side of the political spectrum. My vote will reflect that, regardless of candidate.
However, if your must comment and it as hate-filled as your own posts about your distaste of the female population have often been, don't waste your time here. A few of you, whom I used to read regularly but don't visit so often now because of your obvious distaste for your mothers, wives, sisters and daughters as portrayed in your venomous diatribes against the woman who would be president, can just go on about your day elsewhere. Come back tomorrow for the un-political me.
First, I will say why I supported Hillary. She had substance. Here are the points she made that I appreciated:
She noticed that there is a class war going on and that the middle class is under siege.
I liked her health care plan better than anyone else's, although I don't think it goes far enough. Our health care, to put it simply, is terrible. It needs a complete overhaul. We'd be better off bartering for chickens.
I appreciated her willingness to confront the Iraq issue. Yes, I know she voted for the war. I also think that she and the majority of Congress were spoon fed the BS that the Bush Administration put forth to get this war started so the good ol' boys at Halliburton could have their fun. I give her the benefit of the doubt on this issue because I think she voted based on the misinformation that was available at that time. And as for Obama, well, he wasn't in the senate when the vote took place, so you can pretty much say whatever you want after the fact when you're not there in the hot seat.
I felt like Hillary Clinton would take a lead on women's issues, which have been seriously neglected and indeed stomped on and shoved beneath the table by the Bush Administration.
Which brings me to the main reason for this post. I have been utterly appalled at the media sexism in this primary season. The lack of respect for Hillary portrayed by the media, and by various bloggers, has shown me that many men out there still believe they should be king of the castle, without a queen, and are badly in want of only a scullery maid to wash their clothes and soothe their poor little minnow-sized manhood.
I am not sure what to think about the women who bashed the first potential female candidate for president. I think perhaps they feared the loss of their position as scullery maid because they weren't ready for the promotion to queen. Maybe they like it down on their knees.
Please note that I am referring only to Hillary-bashers of both sexes. If you didn't support her because you disagreed with her issues or whatever, but still managed to respect her run for office, that's something else again. I have no quarrel with you; that is your right.
But the bashing was intense. Many men in particular and this mostly-male driven media, should be ashamed of themselves. I daresay they hold their chin up and go on about their day because they think they have won. Well, they may have gotten their candidate but they have certainly lost a great deal of respect not only from me but from a good portion of the population - the female side, that is.
I know we don't count, of course. We are, after all, the inferior sex in your mind.
If this primary has shown anything, it is that the women of my generation failed miserably by not picking up the reigns on the issues of women's equality. Obviously lip service only has been paid to this idea for the last 30 years.
True equality among the sexes in this country has been shown for what it is - a farce. The glass ceiling is as solid as it was in 1950. For every instance you can give me of a woman at the top, I can give you 1,000 of a place where she is not.
Sexual discrimination is a very real issue. White males in particular have never experienced this and so are clueless as to the very real pain this can cause.
I have experienced it and continue to experience it nearly every day of my life, and let me tell you, it is incredibly frustrating and demoralizing to be held back simply because you're female.
And it is humiliating to be grabbed up and fondled by the computer repairman just because he thinks he has that right. (Yes, that happened, and yes, I attempted to prosecute; he fled the state.)
To be dismissed simply because you can have a baby is extremely discouraging. It does nothing for your self esteem, let me tell you. It's not like we can change it.
The treatment men have given Hillary - calling her names, telling her to go home and iron their shirts - has only brought all of this sexual discrimination home. I see it everywhere, from the way I am treated by my physician to the way I am dismissed when I have a complaint at the supermarket.
It has not been pleasant to be reminded so constantly and consistently by the media that all I apparently am good for is doing the laundry.
It is not okay for the media to be so sexist. It's not okay to joke about pantsuits or how a woman laughs or to make fun of the women who so passionately supported Hillary Clinton for president.
I don't need a daddy to take care of me. I need a strong and powerful leader who would champion the people, not just their rich and powerful friends.
For me, that was Hillary Clinton.
As far as I'm concerned, the Democratic party has been completely disrespectful to women, and frankly, it owes us all, everyone of us, and in particular Hillary Clinton, a very big and heartfelt apology.
Friday, June 06, 2008
Seeing Spots
Wednesday late as we returned home from a visit with the in-laws, we saw a little fawn.
From my position in the driver's seat, I watched the little one creep under the fence. Her mother was quite a distance aways (or so it seemed to me) but she was watching.
The baby crept along on the opposite side of Mama, and then attempted to worm through the wire. The first legs went over the bottom strand okay, but her last two legs didn't want to follow.
She stopped to rest, half on one side, half on the other.
For a moment I thought my husband would have to help the little thing over the fence. By this time I had stopped the car and we were watching. I was trying not to wreck havoc by driving the car by the baby.
I was also really fretting because I did not have my camera.
Finally the little one slipped through the fence and into the weeds. I drove home and grabbed the camera and hoofed it down the hill a ways to where the baby last was.
These are the best shots I could get in the dying light.
I have named her Winkin' (as in Winkin', Blinkin' and Nod) and I hope to see her again soon.
From my position in the driver's seat, I watched the little one creep under the fence. Her mother was quite a distance aways (or so it seemed to me) but she was watching.
The baby crept along on the opposite side of Mama, and then attempted to worm through the wire. The first legs went over the bottom strand okay, but her last two legs didn't want to follow.
She stopped to rest, half on one side, half on the other.
For a moment I thought my husband would have to help the little thing over the fence. By this time I had stopped the car and we were watching. I was trying not to wreck havoc by driving the car by the baby.
I was also really fretting because I did not have my camera.
Finally the little one slipped through the fence and into the weeds. I drove home and grabbed the camera and hoofed it down the hill a ways to where the baby last was.
These are the best shots I could get in the dying light.
I have named her Winkin' (as in Winkin', Blinkin' and Nod) and I hope to see her again soon.
Thursday, June 05, 2008
Thursday Thirteen: Happy Things
I am looking for happy-making things today:
1. A little fawn in the meadow
2. Rain on the garden
3. A bluebird on the fence outside the window
4. A phone call from a friend
5. A hug from the husband
6. The roses in full bloom
7. A good cup of tea
8. A chocolate bar
9. A clean house
10. A good story to work on
11. A good book to read
12. Air conditioning on a 90 degree day
13. A good night's sleep
**Happy Birthday to my brother, who as far as I know doesn't read blogs, and certainly not this one. He will be 42.**
Thursday Thirteen is played by lots of people; you can learn more about it here. My other Thursday Thirteens are here.
1. A little fawn in the meadow
2. Rain on the garden
The garden has grown since this photo was taken.
3. A bluebird on the fence outside the window
This is not a bluebird.
4. A phone call from a friend
5. A hug from the husband
6. The roses in full bloom
This was in the back yard in May. There are more blooming right now.
7. A good cup of tea
8. A chocolate bar
9. A clean house
10. A good story to work on
11. A good book to read
12. Air conditioning on a 90 degree day
13. A good night's sleep
**Happy Birthday to my brother, who as far as I know doesn't read blogs, and certainly not this one. He will be 42.**
Thursday Thirteen is played by lots of people; you can learn more about it here. My other Thursday Thirteens are here.
Wednesday, June 04, 2008
Monday, June 02, 2008
Books: Home to Big Stone Gap
Home to Big Stone Gap
By Adriana Trigiani
Copyright 2007
Audiobook
Read by ???
This fourth book in the Big Stone Gap series does not disappoint.
Ava Maria must resign herself now to empty nest syndrome, since Etta is married and living in Italy. She turns her attention to her husband Jack, only to find that things aren't so well with him. He is getting older.
She also learns her best friend has kept an important secret from her. Ava Maria continues to grow as a person and as a character, and the book will make you smile and shed a tear, maybe at the same time.
I greatly recommend this entire to southwestern Virginia readers. You'll feel right at home.
I am not sure who read the library version of this audiobook, and I turned it in without writing down the name. However, unlike the first three I listened to, this narrator was not Trigiani herself. This was disappointing because the author has a familiar southwestern Virginia drawl that I enjoy listening to. However, whoever read what I listened to did not do a bad job. She just didn't have the accent.
4 stars
By Adriana Trigiani
Copyright 2007
Audiobook
Read by ???
This fourth book in the Big Stone Gap series does not disappoint.
Ava Maria must resign herself now to empty nest syndrome, since Etta is married and living in Italy. She turns her attention to her husband Jack, only to find that things aren't so well with him. He is getting older.
She also learns her best friend has kept an important secret from her. Ava Maria continues to grow as a person and as a character, and the book will make you smile and shed a tear, maybe at the same time.
I greatly recommend this entire to southwestern Virginia readers. You'll feel right at home.
I am not sure who read the library version of this audiobook, and I turned it in without writing down the name. However, unlike the first three I listened to, this narrator was not Trigiani herself. This was disappointing because the author has a familiar southwestern Virginia drawl that I enjoy listening to. However, whoever read what I listened to did not do a bad job. She just didn't have the accent.
4 stars
Sunday, June 01, 2008
The Love Tap
Yesterday I headed to the far side of the city to shop in a few stores I seldom visit. I also was scheduled to meet my aunt, Carolyn, so we could go to the funeral home, as one my great-aunts passed away. Now there is only one great-aunt left.
It was busy day for my aunt. She moved Friday from Georgia back to her hometown, which is to say, here. She's been away for eight years. And she returned only to have to go to the funeral home. Yikes.
Anyway, I spent the afternoon tooling around town purchasing birthday presents for my husband, who has his big day tomorrow. Then I stopped at Nature's Outlet for aloe juice and a Vitamin E stick.
I caught a light at the intersection of 419 and Colonial as I left the health food store. As I idled at the light, the car jumped.
I'd been tapped in the rear. A little love bump from the vehicle behind. I opened my door and got out of the car just as the light turned green.
The car that bumped me back up and sped around me. "Sorry!" someone shouted as they drove past.
Of course that happened so quickly I couldn't even tell what kind of car it was, let alone the plate number or anything else (except I think it was a man driving, but I am not even sure of that). I glanced at my bumper, which looked fine, then pulled into a parking lot to better check.
Even though everything seemed okay, I was a bit unnerved. And even though the little jolt was minimal, I was concerned about my neck, because I had many problems with it last fall and continue to have some soreness and stiffness.
After looking over the car and calling my husband to let him know to check the vehicle over later (boy, was he angry), I went to meet my aunt and to visit with family at the funeral home. When I returned to my house, I immediately applied liniment I have from my acupuncturist. I also took an anti-inflammatory.
This morning, knock wood, things seem no worse for the love tap. But I am still surprised the other person didn't stop to see what kind of damage was done to his car.
It was busy day for my aunt. She moved Friday from Georgia back to her hometown, which is to say, here. She's been away for eight years. And she returned only to have to go to the funeral home. Yikes.
Anyway, I spent the afternoon tooling around town purchasing birthday presents for my husband, who has his big day tomorrow. Then I stopped at Nature's Outlet for aloe juice and a Vitamin E stick.
I caught a light at the intersection of 419 and Colonial as I left the health food store. As I idled at the light, the car jumped.
I'd been tapped in the rear. A little love bump from the vehicle behind. I opened my door and got out of the car just as the light turned green.
The car that bumped me back up and sped around me. "Sorry!" someone shouted as they drove past.
Of course that happened so quickly I couldn't even tell what kind of car it was, let alone the plate number or anything else (except I think it was a man driving, but I am not even sure of that). I glanced at my bumper, which looked fine, then pulled into a parking lot to better check.
Even though everything seemed okay, I was a bit unnerved. And even though the little jolt was minimal, I was concerned about my neck, because I had many problems with it last fall and continue to have some soreness and stiffness.
After looking over the car and calling my husband to let him know to check the vehicle over later (boy, was he angry), I went to meet my aunt and to visit with family at the funeral home. When I returned to my house, I immediately applied liniment I have from my acupuncturist. I also took an anti-inflammatory.
This morning, knock wood, things seem no worse for the love tap. But I am still surprised the other person didn't stop to see what kind of damage was done to his car.
Saturday, May 31, 2008
The Word is "Joint"
Last night while watching a Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers concert on TV, I noticed the interesting censorship that is going on this silly country.
In the song You Don't Know How It Feels, they messed with this line:
Let's get to the point. Let's roll another ????
WTF? (They do it on the video I linked to above, also.
Here's an uncensored version of the song.)
The censured word is joint. As in a marijuana cigarette. I am about 1000 percent sure that when this song was released in 1994 that the word joint was NOT censured. I wonder if it's censured these days on the radio, too. Maybe they just don't play it anymore.
Let's get to the point. Let's roll another joint.
And what doesn't get censured? What objectionable things did I hear Tom Petty sing about last night that wasn't bleeped out?
How about ... drinking booze and getting into a woman's jeans? It's not okay to roll a joint ... but it's okay to mess around and possibly impregnate a woman. And it's okay to get drunk.
I am so glad we have our priorities straight in this country. (That was sarcasm in case you missed it.)
I suppose this is part of the war on drugs. Another government initiative that has never made sense to me.
No, I don't use drugs but I think the policy of locking up someone for smoking MJ is ridiculous. Europe treats drugs as a health issue, not a criminal one, and I think that is the better way to go about this.
Obviously our way isn't working, so it's time to look to something that seems to be modestly successful.
In the meantime, government and TV and everyone else who thinks they know what is good for me, stop censuring my art. And everything else. What are we, a bunch of wilted flowers?
I hate censorship.
In the song You Don't Know How It Feels, they messed with this line:
Let's get to the point. Let's roll another ????
WTF? (They do it on the video I linked to above, also.
Here's an uncensored version of the song.)
The censured word is joint. As in a marijuana cigarette. I am about 1000 percent sure that when this song was released in 1994 that the word joint was NOT censured. I wonder if it's censured these days on the radio, too. Maybe they just don't play it anymore.
Let's get to the point. Let's roll another joint.
And what doesn't get censured? What objectionable things did I hear Tom Petty sing about last night that wasn't bleeped out?
How about ... drinking booze and getting into a woman's jeans? It's not okay to roll a joint ... but it's okay to mess around and possibly impregnate a woman. And it's okay to get drunk.
I am so glad we have our priorities straight in this country. (That was sarcasm in case you missed it.)
I suppose this is part of the war on drugs. Another government initiative that has never made sense to me.
No, I don't use drugs but I think the policy of locking up someone for smoking MJ is ridiculous. Europe treats drugs as a health issue, not a criminal one, and I think that is the better way to go about this.
Obviously our way isn't working, so it's time to look to something that seems to be modestly successful.
In the meantime, government and TV and everyone else who thinks they know what is good for me, stop censuring my art. And everything else. What are we, a bunch of wilted flowers?
I hate censorship.
Thursday, May 29, 2008
Thursday Thirteen
1. The fourth Tuesday of every month is usually spent in an all-day meeting.
2. This most recent Tuesday, the meeting only lasted 45 minutes!
3. I had a free day!
4. I spent it cleaning up the storage room, where I have files, suitcases, Christmas tree decorations and other items that I don't want to stick in the attic.
5. It's a catch-all room that sometimes overflows with items we no longer use that we want to take to Goodwill.
6. So that same day I made a trip to Goodwill to hand off items I hoped might be useful to someone else.
7. Wednesday I had a session with my acupuncturist.
8. She stuck needles EVERYWHERE. Or so it seemed. In my head, in my neck, in my stomach, in my knees, in my ankles and feet and in my hands and elbows.
9. After a while, she set the needles on fire by holding a moxibustion stick to them. The one in the top of my head was particularly hot!
10. She also placed heat directly on the bottom of my foot for my plantar fasciitis. When she does that it feels like my toes are curling all the way down to my heel even though in reality they aren't moving at all.
11. Acupuncture makes me feel much better all over. I highly recommend it.
12. This is a weird Thursday Thirteen, even for me.
13. Go see Colleen; she probably has something great up for Thursday Thirteen even though I haven't yet looked!
Thursday Thirteen is played by lots of people; you can learn more about it here. My other Thursday Thirteens are here.
Monday, May 26, 2008
Memorial Day 2008
This is a day to honor the war dead in the United States.
My paternal grandfather, who died in 1989, served in World War II. In November I shared a war story he wrote.
Today, in his memory and to honor the members of the Armed Forces, I will share a poem penned by my grandfather:
My paternal grandfather, who died in 1989, served in World War II. In November I shared a war story he wrote.
Today, in his memory and to honor the members of the Armed Forces, I will share a poem penned by my grandfather:
Take Me Back to Shenandoah
By Joe B.
Take me back to Shenandoah
where the wild red roses grow.
To my Blue Ridge Mountain home
To my Blue Ridge Mountain home
and old friends I used to know.
When the shades of night roll back
When the shades of night roll back
or the sun sinks in the west
I feel the touch of the Master's hand
I feel the touch of the Master's hand
and Love burns in my breast.
I've heard the children laughing.
I've heard the children laughing.
They sound so bright and gay.
Like the tinkle of the banjo
Like the tinkle of the banjo
in the valley, far away.
I've heard the cattle lowing
I've heard the cattle lowing
high up on a hill.
And in the valley far below
And in the valley far below
cried a whippoorwill.
Now I hear the bubbling brook
Now I hear the bubbling brook
as it makes its way to the sea.
I realize that it's part of God,
I realize that it's part of God,
and God's a part of me.
I have stood the test of life
I have stood the test of life
that God had made for me.
And I know with joyful heart
And I know with joyful heart
that God is a part of me.
Comes the rise of the evening star
Comes the rise of the evening star
as it climbs up over the hill.
I know that night is on its way
I know that night is on its way
for I hear the whippoorwill.
And as my path grows dark and long
And as my path grows dark and long
and I no longer see,
I remember I'm a part of God
I remember I'm a part of God
and He's a part of me.
And when at last He calls me home
And when at last He calls me home
to Heaven's golden shore
I'll see old friends I used to know,
I'll see old friends I used to know,
and visit Shenandoah.
Sunday, May 25, 2008
Referrals
I was taking a look at referrals to my blog to see what brings people to these pages.
One of the most-looked at entries is this one written December 28, 2006 about my fingernails. It is the photo which comes up in people's searches. I have visions of images of my hands in the windows of nail salons the world over. "If your fingers look like this, come in, we can help!"
Just for the record, I have stopped biting my nails. However, they don't really look a lot better. It takes a long time for nails to grow out when you've been rough on them.
I also get hits on entries about the Kodak Z710 camera I once owned and then got rid of because I disliked it. I switched to a Canon and about six months later bought a Nikon. I use the Canon with my newspaper work a lot; the Nikon I tend to use around the farm. I think the Nikon has richer colors.
Other interesting searches include "kill chicken with a knife" and "problem finding Drixoral in stores." The chicken thing referred to an entry I made about how easy it is to buy a chicken in the store.
The Drixoral reference is to a recent post I made about my husband's inability to find this over-the-counter drug. Amy at Virginia Scribe writes that she went so far as to call the drug maker. She learned the drug will be off the market for a year.
My husband is now using a generic of Zyrtec D for his sinus issues. It's a more expensive drug but it seems to be working.
Other hits include "3 Little Pigs Restaurant Botetourt" which I mentioned in a post about non-smoking restaurants, floaters and flashers in your eyes, and cupping (a procedure performed by my acupuncturist).
And several come to me through links from other webpages; thanks to you have me bookmarked on your sites. I hope I have reciprocated; I try to.
Of my last 100 readers, most are from the United States, with an abundance along the eastern seaboard, and a few in California (none in the Midwest); a number are from the United Kingdom and Canada. There are also a few hits from Russia, India, Romania and Malaysia.
It's interesting to look at these stats. But unless I want to drive up traffic by writing with keywords, I guess my traffic will stay about where it is. That's good enough for me!
One of the most-looked at entries is this one written December 28, 2006 about my fingernails. It is the photo which comes up in people's searches. I have visions of images of my hands in the windows of nail salons the world over. "If your fingers look like this, come in, we can help!"
Just for the record, I have stopped biting my nails. However, they don't really look a lot better. It takes a long time for nails to grow out when you've been rough on them.
I also get hits on entries about the Kodak Z710 camera I once owned and then got rid of because I disliked it. I switched to a Canon and about six months later bought a Nikon. I use the Canon with my newspaper work a lot; the Nikon I tend to use around the farm. I think the Nikon has richer colors.
Other interesting searches include "kill chicken with a knife" and "problem finding Drixoral in stores." The chicken thing referred to an entry I made about how easy it is to buy a chicken in the store.
The Drixoral reference is to a recent post I made about my husband's inability to find this over-the-counter drug. Amy at Virginia Scribe writes that she went so far as to call the drug maker. She learned the drug will be off the market for a year.
My husband is now using a generic of Zyrtec D for his sinus issues. It's a more expensive drug but it seems to be working.
Other hits include "3 Little Pigs Restaurant Botetourt" which I mentioned in a post about non-smoking restaurants, floaters and flashers in your eyes, and cupping (a procedure performed by my acupuncturist).
And several come to me through links from other webpages; thanks to you have me bookmarked on your sites. I hope I have reciprocated; I try to.
Of my last 100 readers, most are from the United States, with an abundance along the eastern seaboard, and a few in California (none in the Midwest); a number are from the United Kingdom and Canada. There are also a few hits from Russia, India, Romania and Malaysia.
It's interesting to look at these stats. But unless I want to drive up traffic by writing with keywords, I guess my traffic will stay about where it is. That's good enough for me!
Saturday, May 24, 2008
The Morning
The day stretched before me like a long shadow when I stepped outside around 6:30 this morning.
My feet were shod in a pair of Crocs, while my robe kept the rest of me, except my shins, fairly warm in spite of the early time. My hair fairly stood on end, I'm sure.
A brief rain last night had washed the dust from the leaves and grass, leaving everything pristine. It was a rain like a heavy dew, enough to do a bit of good without damaging the hay which lay in the fields awaiting attention.
My roses were damp and water droplets caught the rising sun as rays slithered through the tree limbs. The dappled effect of light and shade upon the delicate red petals brought a smile to my sleepy eyes.
Off in the distance, that crusty old tom turkey let out an echoing gobble. I craned my neck but could not see him; he must have been strutting his stuff on the over side of the ridge.
The rata-tat of a woodpecker next perked up my ears. I could not spy him, either, but his reverberation of the woods certainly let me know he was there.
Listening, I heard the caw of a murder of crows, far away, and the blaring honk of a Canadian goose from the neighbor's pond caused me to tilt my head hoping to hear more.
As I watched, a titmouse raced from spruce to spruce, its tiny body apparently pouncing on a branch long enough to make it bounce before it took flight again.
By the fence a squirrel stopped and peered back at me with tiny black eyes as if to say, "What's she doing here?" before skittering up a tree.
In a few weeks, I will be 45 years old. When I was 14, I couldn't even imagine what 45 felt like. At 14, you are going to live forever.
At 45, I know my time is limited. I am only 11 years younger than my mother when she died. I wonder, what would she have done differently had she known at 45 that she would be gone at 56?
I thought about that while I stood listening to the world, being in the moment, taking in the clear, crisp air. The world will go on without me, I mused. It is I who will have stopped, whether that's today, 11 years from now, or in another 45 years.
There are millions of things left to do. Places to go - Egypt, for one, and Scotland, for another - and things to learn. I want to know everything about everything, for I am curious like those deer, the ones that peer in my windows sometimes. I want to understand astronomy and astrology, and go on an archaeological dig and discover something fantastic, like a clay pot made by some new civilization.
Philosophy should be my second nature, and I would like to be able to hold intelligent conversation with anyone in the world, and not look like an idiot while we speak.
I wish to read every book, and hear and laugh at every joke. I want to understand why some people are mean and others are so nice they make you cry just to look at them.
And I want to write books and stories and poems, to leave a mark on this world before I go. So that maybe one day I will be remembered as having lived.
There is not enough time in any lifetime, no matter how long, to do all that I would like to do, to know, to feel. Already I have missed out on the experience of giving birth, of holding my own child and feeling the curl of little fists around my finger as someone once inside me holds me tightly.
A million things to be doing, but not for a one would I have traded such a morning. For this morning, too, was an experience of a lifetime.
As the sun rose on this gorgeous day, I watched the progression of sunbeams as they went from low in the trees to the tree tops. In a few minutes, brilliant light broke the shadows cast by those trees and spread sunshine all around. The vivid blue sky looked like a caress, and I thought the birds were calling and singing especially for me.
It's a new day, they chirped. Go on now, go on and live. Go on, child, and just be.
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