Last night we watched You Don't Mess with the Zohan, which stars Adam Sandler.
This was, hands down, one of the worst movies I have watched in a long time. If we hadn't ordered it on pay-per-view I'd have stopped watching after the first 10 minutes. As it was I picked up a book while my husband watched it.
Even James, who has a much higher tolerance for bad movies, said after 40 minutes that we just wasted $4 ordering that movie.
He likes Adam Sandler, generally, and has seen most if not all of his movies. I have always found them too stupid to endure for the most part. I can't think of a single one that I would watch a second time.
This movie was so sexist that I wanted to puke. The lead character treated women as if they were nothing but his personal sex toys. The debasement began in the first minute of the movie and continued throughout. If you have any respect for women, or if you find the objectification of women objectionable, then this movie is not for you.
The basic plot is Zohan is some super Israeli fighter who wants to be a hairdresser. He fakes his death and goes to New York. He meets a Palestinian hair dresser who gives him a chance and he turns the salon into a famous place (because of course the poor female hair dresser couldn't do it herself).
I think there was some message about people getting along there at the end and being peaceful but it was pretty much lost in the midst of all of the stupidity portrayed in the rest of the movie.
ZERO stars
Wednesday, December 03, 2008
Tuesday, December 02, 2008
Books: Blue Christmas
Blue Christmas
By Mary Kay Andrews
Audiobook
Read by Isabel Keating
Copyright ???
5 hours unabridged
Weezie owns an antique store in Savanah. She wants to win the historical district decorating contest and she especially wants to outdo the owners of the boutique across the way that keeps trying to put her out of business.
She comes up with a Blue Christmas theme for her window and takes first prize. Her boyfriend Daniel gave her the idea because he doesn't like the holiday. He owns a restaurant and must work all the time. Plus his mother left him at Christmas when he was young.
Weezie starts worrying about what is going on in her life when a stranger breaks into her apartment and eats all her food. Then little items start to go missing. She believes it a bag lady is helping herself, so Weezie leaves her little presents. The woman leaves Weezie presents in return.
It looks like it might not be a good holiday but all ends well.
This book was a little on the cute side but it wasn't bad. It kind of fits the season. I enjoyed the characters and the writing wasn't bad.
2.75 stars
By Mary Kay Andrews
Audiobook
Read by Isabel Keating
Copyright ???
5 hours unabridged
Weezie owns an antique store in Savanah. She wants to win the historical district decorating contest and she especially wants to outdo the owners of the boutique across the way that keeps trying to put her out of business.
She comes up with a Blue Christmas theme for her window and takes first prize. Her boyfriend Daniel gave her the idea because he doesn't like the holiday. He owns a restaurant and must work all the time. Plus his mother left him at Christmas when he was young.
Weezie starts worrying about what is going on in her life when a stranger breaks into her apartment and eats all her food. Then little items start to go missing. She believes it a bag lady is helping herself, so Weezie leaves her little presents. The woman leaves Weezie presents in return.
It looks like it might not be a good holiday but all ends well.
This book was a little on the cute side but it wasn't bad. It kind of fits the season. I enjoyed the characters and the writing wasn't bad.
2.75 stars
Saturday, November 29, 2008
Blue Christmas
Now that it is officially the Christmas season, I have a confession to make.
I am not that fond of this particular holiday. One reason is my estrangement with my father, which makes the season bittersweet and emotionally tiring.
In fact, when I sing carols, I sing "Deck the halls with Melancholy, fa la lala lalala there's no way I can be jolly..." which always earns me a "tsk tsk" from my husband.
He loves the holiday, so I try very hard to be joyful for him. I don't complain about the tree (if not for him I wouldn't bother) or the wrapping or the cards or the decorating. I do my best to get into it but I usually have at least one meltdown.
When I was a child the holiday was a time of great strife. My parents fought like insane rabid wolves this time of the year; I suppose they were cooped up in the house together too much. When your parents are yelling and throwing things at one another, it does not make for anything other than great trepidation. Certainly it does not lead to much in the way of anticipation when you're more worried if Dad will still be there in the morning than if Santa is coming.
It is cold and I worry a lot about folks who don't have a lot of money. I just know they are suffering.
Also, there is all of this crass commercialism and gimme gimme and I want I want I want, which I find to be a downer. I love to buy things for other people, or make things for them (I make pounds and pounds of fudge and give it away; I do enjoy doing that). But I really dislike being told "I expect this from you" unless I have specifically asked.
My husband has to work Christmas Eve this year. That day has always had more importance to me than the actual Christmas Day, and I enjoy going to the community Christmas service with him. That won't be happening this year.
I won't grumble about it again and from here on you'll probably think I just adore Christmas. I think it is a very sad holiday, though, and I hope I and others remember that many folks get the blues this time of year.
I am not that fond of this particular holiday. One reason is my estrangement with my father, which makes the season bittersweet and emotionally tiring.
In fact, when I sing carols, I sing "Deck the halls with Melancholy, fa la lala lalala there's no way I can be jolly..." which always earns me a "tsk tsk" from my husband.
He loves the holiday, so I try very hard to be joyful for him. I don't complain about the tree (if not for him I wouldn't bother) or the wrapping or the cards or the decorating. I do my best to get into it but I usually have at least one meltdown.
When I was a child the holiday was a time of great strife. My parents fought like insane rabid wolves this time of the year; I suppose they were cooped up in the house together too much. When your parents are yelling and throwing things at one another, it does not make for anything other than great trepidation. Certainly it does not lead to much in the way of anticipation when you're more worried if Dad will still be there in the morning than if Santa is coming.
It is cold and I worry a lot about folks who don't have a lot of money. I just know they are suffering.
Also, there is all of this crass commercialism and gimme gimme and I want I want I want, which I find to be a downer. I love to buy things for other people, or make things for them (I make pounds and pounds of fudge and give it away; I do enjoy doing that). But I really dislike being told "I expect this from you" unless I have specifically asked.
My husband has to work Christmas Eve this year. That day has always had more importance to me than the actual Christmas Day, and I enjoy going to the community Christmas service with him. That won't be happening this year.
I won't grumble about it again and from here on you'll probably think I just adore Christmas. I think it is a very sad holiday, though, and I hope I and others remember that many folks get the blues this time of year.
Thursday, November 27, 2008
Thanksgiving Thirteen
1. I am so thankful for the turkey, in the oven cooking.
2. I am thankful for my husband, who still calls me "good looking."
3. I am thankful for my little house, which keeps me nice and warm.
4. I am thankful for my little car which keeps me safe from harm.
5. I am thankful for my many friends, so dear and kind and true.
6. I am thankful for another day so I can to write to you!
7. I am thankful for my telephone, with calls to loves and friends
8. I am thankful for the gift of time so I can make amends
9. I am thankful for another day to tread upon this land
10. I am thankful for the beaches and their thousand grains of sand.
11. I am thankful for good chocolate and the teeth with which to eat
12. I am thankful for my table and for the upcoming turkey feast!
13. And finally, I am thankful on this great Thanksgiving Day
That here I have a place to list the grace that comes my way.
Thursday Thirteen is played by lots of people; you can learn more about it here. My other Thursday Thirteens are here.
2. I am thankful for my husband, who still calls me "good looking."
3. I am thankful for my little house, which keeps me nice and warm.
4. I am thankful for my little car which keeps me safe from harm.
5. I am thankful for my many friends, so dear and kind and true.
6. I am thankful for another day so I can to write to you!
7. I am thankful for my telephone, with calls to loves and friends
8. I am thankful for the gift of time so I can make amends
9. I am thankful for another day to tread upon this land
10. I am thankful for the beaches and their thousand grains of sand.
11. I am thankful for good chocolate and the teeth with which to eat
12. I am thankful for my table and for the upcoming turkey feast!
13. And finally, I am thankful on this great Thanksgiving Day
That here I have a place to list the grace that comes my way.
Thursday Thirteen is played by lots of people; you can learn more about it here. My other Thursday Thirteens are here.
Wednesday, November 26, 2008
Remembering Karen Carpenter
Karen Carpenter of The Carpenters was one of my favorite singers.
Every year I enjoy hearing her Christmas carols. Her songs remind me of my teenage years. I grew up on this voice. All I wanted to do was sing like Karen Carpenter.
What a shame she was unable to enjoy her work and live to see a long life.
She died at the age of 32 from complications from anorexia. I remember hearing of her death; I was home sick myself with mono at the time.
I have watched footage of Karen in concert. She really seemed happiest when she was playing drums instead of singing. She has a perfect voice, though. I am glad she was able to share it with the world.
Tuesday, November 25, 2008
And it became this column
On Friday, as I fretted over a column for the weekly paper, I blogged about my frustrations and inability to find a topic.
Since a number of my gentle readers offered suggestions, I thought I would share what I ended up with. I wrote this Sunday night and it is in The Fincastle Herald today (the issue printed early because of the holiday).
***
Botetourt County has a great deal for which I am thankful. I thought for the upcoming turkey day I would run down a list. Here you go, in no particular order:
Great views. There is hardly a place here where you can’t see something lovely. You might have to look over the rooftops of a few buildings to see a mountain, but they are there.
I include the towns and the many communities in with the great views. They all offer something unique to see. Aside from Fincastle (the county seat), Buchanan and Troutville, check out Eagle Rock, Glen Wilton, Daleville/Amsterdam, Blue Ridge, and Cloverdale. You’ll be amazed at what you find.
Rural landscape. The farmland we have remaining is a blessing. I am very grateful to the farmers who continue to till, plow and keep the fields. If it were not for them, we would have rows and rows of homes and scarcely a bucolic plot to play in. Thankfully, the rural nature remains in many areas of the county. There are even a few fields in southern Botetourt.
We also have a National Forest land, which is wonderful for protecting the land and the rural nature of the county. Can we ever have too many trees?
Locally owned. I am very glad we have locally owned restaurants and shops. I can spend a whole day shopping here if I want, and come away with unique items. While I’m doing it, I can eat at a unique restaurant.
Some places to check out include Meggie’s Mercantile, the Tin Roof, the Apple Barn, Three Li’l Pigs restaurant, Three Graces, and the new Pomegranite restaurant in Troutville (haven’t eaten there yet but it’s on my list). You can also try Ikenberry Orchards and the Botetourt Family Farmers Market, have a snack at Blue Collar Joe’s, buy gifts at Southern Past Times, visit the county’s floral shops, patron a number of arts and crafts people, including galleries in Buchanan, and spend money at many other places, more than I can list.
Historic properties. I am glad that in the 1960s some folks had the foresight and courage to begin preserving the ancient structures in the towns and elsewhere. Had they not done so, many of the buildings that look so Botetourt would not exist. These places tell tales and help us remember where we came from. They give the place character and keep it from looking like any ol’ exit off the interstate.
Kudos to the Town of Buchanan for the great job they’re doing in keeping its Main Street alive and thriving. Every time I go into town, I see something I think is cool. I am thankful the town has survived.
The people. Folks in Botetourt are great. They give wholeheartedly, they care about one another and they keep each other straight. When Mary Lou Mullis at Social Services called me last week to tell me they had received an outpouring of love and support for their Angel Tree and the Fuel Assistance program, I nearly cried. How great is it that when there is a need, folks respond?
My ancestry. This is different from the properties and more personal. My family has been in the county for 200 years. My roots here are deep and long. I have cousins and great-aunts and uncles and all kinds of family living here. Some of them I don’t know and some might not claim me, but we have a blood line and there’s a bond there whether it’s acknowledged or not.
It’s the kind of thing that can create a surprise when you realize you share a great-great-grandmother with the person you’re talking to.
I am particularly grateful for my ancestry because it brought me my husband, in a round about way.
I will never forget the day my husband’s great aunt, Lenna Etzler, told us we were cousins. We laughed about it and then dismissed it.
Then I did our family tree. Gads, there we were on the same line, sharing a set of great-great-great-great- grandparents. Cousins sure enough, though a very long way back.
If folks have lived in the county for any length of time, most likely they share a common ancestor or two. It can make for a fine hour of conversation.
It’s just another thing I’m thankful for while I live in Botetourt County. I hope you’re thankful that you live here, too.
Since a number of my gentle readers offered suggestions, I thought I would share what I ended up with. I wrote this Sunday night and it is in The Fincastle Herald today (the issue printed early because of the holiday).
***
Botetourt County has a great deal for which I am thankful. I thought for the upcoming turkey day I would run down a list. Here you go, in no particular order:
Great views. There is hardly a place here where you can’t see something lovely. You might have to look over the rooftops of a few buildings to see a mountain, but they are there.
I include the towns and the many communities in with the great views. They all offer something unique to see. Aside from Fincastle (the county seat), Buchanan and Troutville, check out Eagle Rock, Glen Wilton, Daleville/Amsterdam, Blue Ridge, and Cloverdale. You’ll be amazed at what you find.
Rural landscape. The farmland we have remaining is a blessing. I am very grateful to the farmers who continue to till, plow and keep the fields. If it were not for them, we would have rows and rows of homes and scarcely a bucolic plot to play in. Thankfully, the rural nature remains in many areas of the county. There are even a few fields in southern Botetourt.
We also have a National Forest land, which is wonderful for protecting the land and the rural nature of the county. Can we ever have too many trees?
Locally owned. I am very glad we have locally owned restaurants and shops. I can spend a whole day shopping here if I want, and come away with unique items. While I’m doing it, I can eat at a unique restaurant.
Some places to check out include Meggie’s Mercantile, the Tin Roof, the Apple Barn, Three Li’l Pigs restaurant, Three Graces, and the new Pomegranite restaurant in Troutville (haven’t eaten there yet but it’s on my list). You can also try Ikenberry Orchards and the Botetourt Family Farmers Market, have a snack at Blue Collar Joe’s, buy gifts at Southern Past Times, visit the county’s floral shops, patron a number of arts and crafts people, including galleries in Buchanan, and spend money at many other places, more than I can list.
Historic properties. I am glad that in the 1960s some folks had the foresight and courage to begin preserving the ancient structures in the towns and elsewhere. Had they not done so, many of the buildings that look so Botetourt would not exist. These places tell tales and help us remember where we came from. They give the place character and keep it from looking like any ol’ exit off the interstate.
Kudos to the Town of Buchanan for the great job they’re doing in keeping its Main Street alive and thriving. Every time I go into town, I see something I think is cool. I am thankful the town has survived.
The people. Folks in Botetourt are great. They give wholeheartedly, they care about one another and they keep each other straight. When Mary Lou Mullis at Social Services called me last week to tell me they had received an outpouring of love and support for their Angel Tree and the Fuel Assistance program, I nearly cried. How great is it that when there is a need, folks respond?
My ancestry. This is different from the properties and more personal. My family has been in the county for 200 years. My roots here are deep and long. I have cousins and great-aunts and uncles and all kinds of family living here. Some of them I don’t know and some might not claim me, but we have a blood line and there’s a bond there whether it’s acknowledged or not.
It’s the kind of thing that can create a surprise when you realize you share a great-great-grandmother with the person you’re talking to.
I am particularly grateful for my ancestry because it brought me my husband, in a round about way.
I will never forget the day my husband’s great aunt, Lenna Etzler, told us we were cousins. We laughed about it and then dismissed it.
Then I did our family tree. Gads, there we were on the same line, sharing a set of great-great-great-great- grandparents. Cousins sure enough, though a very long way back.
If folks have lived in the county for any length of time, most likely they share a common ancestor or two. It can make for a fine hour of conversation.
It’s just another thing I’m thankful for while I live in Botetourt County. I hope you’re thankful that you live here, too.
Saturday, November 22, 2008
Villanelles & Sestinas
I do not have time for poetry much anymore. One of my favorite poem styles is the villanelle.
Probably the most famous villanelle Dylan Thomas's Do Not Go Gentle into that Good Night, a poem about his father's passing.
Here are the poetic stanzas for a villanelle:
Refrain 1 (A1)
Line 2 (b)
Refrain 2 (A2)
Line 4 (a)
Line 5 (b)
Refrain 1 (A1)
Line 7 (a)
Line 8 (b)
Refrain 2 (A2)
Line 10 (a)
Line 11 (b)
Refrain 1 (A1)
Line 13 (a)
Line 14 (b)
Refrain 2 (A2)
Line 16 (a)
Line 17 (b)
Refrain 1 (A1)
Refrain 2 (A2)
I have always enjoyed trying to write poetry to a form. Free verse certainly has its place but there seems to me something musical about a poem written with rhyme, half-rhyme, repeating words, etc.
Another favorite poem form is the sestina. It doesn't rhyme, usually, although it can, I guess. Generally what happens is the last word is repeated in various places along the six-line stanzas, like this:
Stanza 1: 1 2 3 4 5 6
Stanza 2: 6 1 5 2 4 3
Stanza 3: 3 6 4 1 2 5
Stanza 4: 5 3 2 6 1 4
Stanza 5: 4 5 1 3 6 2
Stanza 6: 2 4 6 5 3 1
Tercet: Variable.
Ezra Pound wrote some setinas, as did Rudyard Kipling.
Sometimes I have poetry run through my mind, or maybe just a line, and I think, that would make a good sestina. Or a good villanelle.
These kinds of poems can take a long time to write. My poetry never seems finished to me, so I don't often share it.
Maybe one day soon I will find some time to try to write a few poems. I think that would be divine.
Probably the most famous villanelle Dylan Thomas's Do Not Go Gentle into that Good Night, a poem about his father's passing.
Here are the poetic stanzas for a villanelle:
Refrain 1 (A1)
Line 2 (b)
Refrain 2 (A2)
Line 4 (a)
Line 5 (b)
Refrain 1 (A1)
Line 7 (a)
Line 8 (b)
Refrain 2 (A2)
Line 10 (a)
Line 11 (b)
Refrain 1 (A1)
Line 13 (a)
Line 14 (b)
Refrain 2 (A2)
Line 16 (a)
Line 17 (b)
Refrain 1 (A1)
Refrain 2 (A2)
I have always enjoyed trying to write poetry to a form. Free verse certainly has its place but there seems to me something musical about a poem written with rhyme, half-rhyme, repeating words, etc.
Another favorite poem form is the sestina. It doesn't rhyme, usually, although it can, I guess. Generally what happens is the last word is repeated in various places along the six-line stanzas, like this:
Stanza 1: 1 2 3 4 5 6
Stanza 2: 6 1 5 2 4 3
Stanza 3: 3 6 4 1 2 5
Stanza 4: 5 3 2 6 1 4
Stanza 5: 4 5 1 3 6 2
Stanza 6: 2 4 6 5 3 1
Tercet: Variable.
Ezra Pound wrote some setinas, as did Rudyard Kipling.
Sometimes I have poetry run through my mind, or maybe just a line, and I think, that would make a good sestina. Or a good villanelle.
These kinds of poems can take a long time to write. My poetry never seems finished to me, so I don't often share it.
Maybe one day soon I will find some time to try to write a few poems. I think that would be divine.
Friday, November 21, 2008
It's the Columns
My job is to write.
Every week I pound out not just one but a lot of articles.
This week I wrote six. Last week I wrote eight.
The hardest stories are not the ones about government or poverty (though the latter can be terribly heart wrenching) or the features on people who do noteworthy things.
No, the hardest stories are the ones I am supposed to write about me. I have column space to fill and I find that to be the hardest task of all.
Because what is there to say, after all? I've not been up in space or climbed mountains (unless you count a drive over Caldwell Mountain or Catawba Mountain on occasion). I've not jumped into a freezing pond to rescue a child, or breathed life into a heart attack victim.
I do drink tea and chew gum and breathe air, which means that I generally focus on the finer, minute parts of living for my lifestyle column. Those things that folks who are busy often forget, perhaps. I can do that.
But some days (and today is surely one of them) I can't think of a darned thing to write.
It's 4:20 p.m. I have a 5 p.m. deadline (self-imposed; it's really Monday morning but I didn't want to work this weekend).
I need a topic!
Every week I pound out not just one but a lot of articles.
This week I wrote six. Last week I wrote eight.
The hardest stories are not the ones about government or poverty (though the latter can be terribly heart wrenching) or the features on people who do noteworthy things.
No, the hardest stories are the ones I am supposed to write about me. I have column space to fill and I find that to be the hardest task of all.
Because what is there to say, after all? I've not been up in space or climbed mountains (unless you count a drive over Caldwell Mountain or Catawba Mountain on occasion). I've not jumped into a freezing pond to rescue a child, or breathed life into a heart attack victim.
I do drink tea and chew gum and breathe air, which means that I generally focus on the finer, minute parts of living for my lifestyle column. Those things that folks who are busy often forget, perhaps. I can do that.
But some days (and today is surely one of them) I can't think of a darned thing to write.
It's 4:20 p.m. I have a 5 p.m. deadline (self-imposed; it's really Monday morning but I didn't want to work this weekend).
I need a topic!
Wednesday, November 19, 2008
Books: A Redbird Christmas
A RedBird Christmas
By Fannie Flagg
Copyright 2004
Read by Fannie Flagg
I really like Fannie Flagg's work, and this was no exception. Oswald Campbell lives in Chicago and his doctor tells him to go live somewhere else or the air will kill him.
He moves to Lost River, Alabama, where he meets Roy, Frances, Patsy, and Jack the redbird who lives in the grocery store.
The characters are great and the book is very well written.
This is a sweet and warm book, very heartwarming for Christmas time. If you're looking for something that says the world will be okay, this book will do it.
Highly recommended if you like books about small town folks.
4 stars
By Fannie Flagg
Copyright 2004
Read by Fannie Flagg
I really like Fannie Flagg's work, and this was no exception. Oswald Campbell lives in Chicago and his doctor tells him to go live somewhere else or the air will kill him.
He moves to Lost River, Alabama, where he meets Roy, Frances, Patsy, and Jack the redbird who lives in the grocery store.
The characters are great and the book is very well written.
This is a sweet and warm book, very heartwarming for Christmas time. If you're looking for something that says the world will be okay, this book will do it.
Highly recommended if you like books about small town folks.
4 stars
Tuesday, November 18, 2008
Our Silver Anniversary
Today I have been married for 25 years. That's more than half of my life.
We have been very happy. I think we knew almost from the moment we met that we would end up together.
We met on October 15, 1982 at a Lord Botetourt High School football game. I had graduated from high school a year earlier; he graduated in 1977. We stood under the goal post and chatted. He asked me out that night.
Our wedding day, November 18, 1983, was a cold Friday; I remember snow flurries. Our nuptials took place at the Daleville Church of the Brethren with a reception at the Botetourt Country Club.
The honey moon was at a B&B in Warm Springs; just two nights. We were back by Sunday.
In 1987 we built the house we live in now. And I mean we built it, hammer in hand. Mostly James built it, so his heart and soul is in every nail. He made us a good, strong home.
In the last 25 years he has moved up the ladder at the Roanoke City Fire-EMS where he works. With his help I went to Hollins College and received my B.A. in English in 1993. He encouraged me to quit my job with an attorney and try freelancing. I never looked back.
We are not rich in the monetary sense of the word but we are exquisitely happy with one another. Our biggest shadow was my inability to have children; those six years of trying to conceive remain our main sorrow. Thankfully we have four nephews and a niece to spoil. It eases the sadness most of the time.
We argue some, but we usually resolve our issues. Mostly we just love each other. To this day we hold hands when we are shopping.
We even hold hands when we're sitting on the sofa watching TV.
I consider myself blessed to have met this man and married him. I am so thankful we have been together all of these years.
Happy Silver Anniversary, my wonderful guy!
We have been very happy. I think we knew almost from the moment we met that we would end up together.
We met on October 15, 1982 at a Lord Botetourt High School football game. I had graduated from high school a year earlier; he graduated in 1977. We stood under the goal post and chatted. He asked me out that night.
Our wedding day, November 18, 1983, was a cold Friday; I remember snow flurries. Our nuptials took place at the Daleville Church of the Brethren with a reception at the Botetourt Country Club.
The honey moon was at a B&B in Warm Springs; just two nights. We were back by Sunday.
In 1987 we built the house we live in now. And I mean we built it, hammer in hand. Mostly James built it, so his heart and soul is in every nail. He made us a good, strong home.
In the last 25 years he has moved up the ladder at the Roanoke City Fire-EMS where he works. With his help I went to Hollins College and received my B.A. in English in 1993. He encouraged me to quit my job with an attorney and try freelancing. I never looked back.
We are not rich in the monetary sense of the word but we are exquisitely happy with one another. Our biggest shadow was my inability to have children; those six years of trying to conceive remain our main sorrow. Thankfully we have four nephews and a niece to spoil. It eases the sadness most of the time.
We argue some, but we usually resolve our issues. Mostly we just love each other. To this day we hold hands when we are shopping.
We even hold hands when we're sitting on the sofa watching TV.
I consider myself blessed to have met this man and married him. I am so thankful we have been together all of these years.
Happy Silver Anniversary, my wonderful guy!
Monday, November 17, 2008
Another Q&A Meme
I swiped this from someone's blog; I've lost the link, though. I found it while I was blog-hopping.
1. What do you do before bedtime?
I read. The TV is usually on but I am not the one watching it.
2. What is your favorite sound?
My husband's voice. There is something about the way he calls for me that makes a lump form in my throat.
My non-human favorite sound is... silence. The absolute stillness of the day, when nothing is moving but you know that if you breathe hard something will happen - thunder will clap, the leaves will shake.
3. What were your childhood fears?
I feared my parents were going to put me in the crazy house and leave me. Unfortunately this was one of my mother's favorite threats; I think it is akin to being told the raggedy man is going to come and get you, a ghost story told around these parts after the Civil War. This was just an updated version.
4. What place have you visited that you can't forget and want to go back?
New York. I am not a city girl but I visited this metropolis when I was teenager and was entranced. I would love to go back as an adult and see it all over again. I visited China Town and have never forgotten the sweet and sour shrimp I ate there; nothing in this area has ever duplicated that taste.
5. What has made you unhappy these days?
I worry about the economy but that is out of my control. I also fear growing old and dying; I think the deaths this year of three of my great aunts has brought mortality home to me in a very strong way.
I also fret about my weight which I know needs to be, well, less.
6. What websites do you visit daily?
Blue Country Magic and Botetourt County News Blog, which are my own blogs, Spatter, Roanoke RnR, Loose Leaf Notes, Peevish Pen, sweetfluttersby - most of the bloggers in my blogging list who write daily or near daily. I recently added my Facebook page to my list of "visit every day" sites; I still can't decide if I like Facebook or not.
7. What’s the last song that got stuck in your head?
The Space Cowboy aka The Joker by Steve Miller Band. Here's an interesting youtube version of it. Here's a video of the whole song.
8. What’s your favorite item of clothing?
I have an aged blue sports jacket that I have worn out to the point that the sleeves are nearly gone from it. I call it "blue thing." My husband recently bought me a gray sports jacket to replace that one; I call it "gray thing." I'm still breaking it in.
Aside from that, I love to sit around in sweats and a t-shirt. Give me comfort over looks any day.
9. What is your dream for the future?
To publish a book. That is probably a silly dream but there you go. One day I want to walk into Barnes & Noble and find myself on the shelf.
I would also like to be healthy and live a nice long life with my husband. When we are really old I want us in the same room at the old folks' home so we can always hold hands.
For the nation, my dream is that we find our common ground again. I know it is there somewhere if we could all only get past our egos long enough to look.
My apologies to whomever I lifted this from. I am not tagging anyone, but if you'd like to give it a try, be my guest.
1. What do you do before bedtime?
I read. The TV is usually on but I am not the one watching it.
2. What is your favorite sound?
My husband's voice. There is something about the way he calls for me that makes a lump form in my throat.
My non-human favorite sound is... silence. The absolute stillness of the day, when nothing is moving but you know that if you breathe hard something will happen - thunder will clap, the leaves will shake.
3. What were your childhood fears?
I feared my parents were going to put me in the crazy house and leave me. Unfortunately this was one of my mother's favorite threats; I think it is akin to being told the raggedy man is going to come and get you, a ghost story told around these parts after the Civil War. This was just an updated version.
4. What place have you visited that you can't forget and want to go back?
New York. I am not a city girl but I visited this metropolis when I was teenager and was entranced. I would love to go back as an adult and see it all over again. I visited China Town and have never forgotten the sweet and sour shrimp I ate there; nothing in this area has ever duplicated that taste.
5. What has made you unhappy these days?
I worry about the economy but that is out of my control. I also fear growing old and dying; I think the deaths this year of three of my great aunts has brought mortality home to me in a very strong way.
I also fret about my weight which I know needs to be, well, less.
6. What websites do you visit daily?
Blue Country Magic and Botetourt County News Blog, which are my own blogs, Spatter, Roanoke RnR, Loose Leaf Notes, Peevish Pen, sweetfluttersby - most of the bloggers in my blogging list who write daily or near daily. I recently added my Facebook page to my list of "visit every day" sites; I still can't decide if I like Facebook or not.
7. What’s the last song that got stuck in your head?
The Space Cowboy aka The Joker by Steve Miller Band. Here's an interesting youtube version of it. Here's a video of the whole song.
8. What’s your favorite item of clothing?
I have an aged blue sports jacket that I have worn out to the point that the sleeves are nearly gone from it. I call it "blue thing." My husband recently bought me a gray sports jacket to replace that one; I call it "gray thing." I'm still breaking it in.
Aside from that, I love to sit around in sweats and a t-shirt. Give me comfort over looks any day.
9. What is your dream for the future?
To publish a book. That is probably a silly dream but there you go. One day I want to walk into Barnes & Noble and find myself on the shelf.
I would also like to be healthy and live a nice long life with my husband. When we are really old I want us in the same room at the old folks' home so we can always hold hands.
For the nation, my dream is that we find our common ground again. I know it is there somewhere if we could all only get past our egos long enough to look.
My apologies to whomever I lifted this from. I am not tagging anyone, but if you'd like to give it a try, be my guest.
Sunday, November 16, 2008
Jumping the Shark
I do not watch much TV and I make no apologies for that.
If I have to relax or just waste time, I would rather do it while reading a book. If I must do something else, then I prefer the computer to the TV. At least playing a video game gives you the illusion of doing something.
I am loyal to just a few shows. At the moment, I am watching Ghost Whisperer, Legend of the Seeker, and Survivor.
Ghost Whisper has jumped the shark, or so it appears. I am withholding actual judgment on this until I see how the latest story line, which involves the death of Melinda's husband and his return as a ghost and now as a ghost in the body of a dead man, is completed.
This is looking pretty shark-worthy, even if this story line has apparently increased the show's audience.
Ghost Whisperer is in its fourth season.
Legend of the Seeker is based on Terry Goodkind's Sword of Truth fantasy series. The show is brought to us courtesy of Sam Raimi and Rob Tapert, the Renaissance team that gave us Hercules and Xena: Warrior Princess.
I was a great fan of both those shows. I don't know that Hercules ever really jumped the shark although I recall that several of its last seasons were rather dark.
Xena jumped the shark in season 3 by some estimates and for sure in Season 5.
Legend of the Seeker is not staying true to the books, a fact which rankles my husband. We listened to Goodkind's books over the last 10 years on audiobooks and my husband enjoyed them. To my knowledge they are the only works of fiction he has "read" since school.
He has been unhappy with the show's inability to adhere to the books. I told him book readers deal with this all the time when their stories are transformed to screen.
"The books would have made a good series, they didn't have to make all these changes," he growls on the nights we watch the show.
Legend of the Seeker reminds me of Hercules more so than Xena. Xena's music creator, Jo LoDuca, has done the score for this show, and I recognize many of the names from casting and directors when the credits role. It has the same feel as Hercules in its characters.
I guess that is what happens when you are Xena:Warrior Princess fan and you read the credits. There was a time when I could have named a long list of people associated with that particular show though I thankfully have forgotten most of that trivia now.
As best I can tell Legend has only nine episodes created. I suppose if the show has decent ratings it will move forward.
I have always been a fan of fantasy shows (as opposed to SF shows like Star Trek, though I like those, too). There hasn't been a fantasy that I really enjoyed since Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Xena were on so I have been looking forward to this new Legend series. So far it is okay although I am not engaging with the characters as much as I would like. Still, I recommend it to fans of the genre in the hopes it will grow on me.
Survivor has been around forever and I have watched every season although I honestly don't know why I do. The shows are so unremarkable that there are only a very few contestants that I recall with any clarity.
Yet I make a point of watching it every Thursday night, so there must be something to it. It is the only reality show I watch.
This year I am not a fan of any of the contestants, which means I am rooting more for people to get tossed out of the game than I am for someone to win.
I think Survivor probably jumped the shark long ago but I couldn't begin to identify when that was.
Anyway, those are my current TV-watching habits. Three hours a week. I also have the news on when I'm cooking dinner and I sometimes sit down to watch a movie, but not very often.
It takes a very good movie to make me put down my book.
If I have to relax or just waste time, I would rather do it while reading a book. If I must do something else, then I prefer the computer to the TV. At least playing a video game gives you the illusion of doing something.
I am loyal to just a few shows. At the moment, I am watching Ghost Whisperer, Legend of the Seeker, and Survivor.
Ghost Whisper has jumped the shark, or so it appears. I am withholding actual judgment on this until I see how the latest story line, which involves the death of Melinda's husband and his return as a ghost and now as a ghost in the body of a dead man, is completed.
This is looking pretty shark-worthy, even if this story line has apparently increased the show's audience.
Ghost Whisperer is in its fourth season.
Legend of the Seeker is based on Terry Goodkind's Sword of Truth fantasy series. The show is brought to us courtesy of Sam Raimi and Rob Tapert, the Renaissance team that gave us Hercules and Xena: Warrior Princess.
I was a great fan of both those shows. I don't know that Hercules ever really jumped the shark although I recall that several of its last seasons were rather dark.
Xena jumped the shark in season 3 by some estimates and for sure in Season 5.
Legend of the Seeker is not staying true to the books, a fact which rankles my husband. We listened to Goodkind's books over the last 10 years on audiobooks and my husband enjoyed them. To my knowledge they are the only works of fiction he has "read" since school.
He has been unhappy with the show's inability to adhere to the books. I told him book readers deal with this all the time when their stories are transformed to screen.
"The books would have made a good series, they didn't have to make all these changes," he growls on the nights we watch the show.
Legend of the Seeker reminds me of Hercules more so than Xena. Xena's music creator, Jo LoDuca, has done the score for this show, and I recognize many of the names from casting and directors when the credits role. It has the same feel as Hercules in its characters.
I guess that is what happens when you are Xena:Warrior Princess fan and you read the credits. There was a time when I could have named a long list of people associated with that particular show though I thankfully have forgotten most of that trivia now.
As best I can tell Legend has only nine episodes created. I suppose if the show has decent ratings it will move forward.
I have always been a fan of fantasy shows (as opposed to SF shows like Star Trek, though I like those, too). There hasn't been a fantasy that I really enjoyed since Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Xena were on so I have been looking forward to this new Legend series. So far it is okay although I am not engaging with the characters as much as I would like. Still, I recommend it to fans of the genre in the hopes it will grow on me.
Survivor has been around forever and I have watched every season although I honestly don't know why I do. The shows are so unremarkable that there are only a very few contestants that I recall with any clarity.
Yet I make a point of watching it every Thursday night, so there must be something to it. It is the only reality show I watch.
This year I am not a fan of any of the contestants, which means I am rooting more for people to get tossed out of the game than I am for someone to win.
I think Survivor probably jumped the shark long ago but I couldn't begin to identify when that was.
Anyway, those are my current TV-watching habits. Three hours a week. I also have the news on when I'm cooking dinner and I sometimes sit down to watch a movie, but not very often.
It takes a very good movie to make me put down my book.
Friday, November 14, 2008
Desperate Need
The weather’s colder. Money is tighter. Appalachian Power just announced a major increase in the electricity bill.
This time of year is downright hard for folks who are having trouble with their finances. Add a predicted recession to that and you have a recipe for cold feet, ill health and plenty of woe.
The Fuel Assistance Program run by the Botetourt County Department of Social Services currently has no money in it. Folks who need a little help with their light bill or their heat have nowhere to turn.
Donations are way down.
“We are in desperate need. We have no money,” Social Services Director Mary Lou Mullis said.
The program helps people out with a one-time payment for fuel. Companies will only bring 100 gallons of fuel at a time, so with prices running high the coffers are quickly depleted.
This program does not use state or local dollars. While there are some state funds available for emergency uses, the crisis program does not begin until January and funding for that program is limited.
The Fuel Assistance Program often helps people who fall between the cracks. These are folks who may normally work but have recently lost a job due to illness or lay off. With no money coming in, they are at risk of losing their electricity or heat.
“The government does not give us money for those people,” Mullis said. Everyone who receives funds is checked out and the need is verified before dollars are handed over, she said.
These folks simply need a hand until they can get back on their feet. Most recently a woman who had been very ill called saying she had a $10 balance on her light bill; the electric company was on the way to shut off her power.
A call from Social Services kept her electricity on. However, the woman has no family in the area and her illness has kept her from work for a number of weeks. Mullis worried that she would suffer until she could get well enough to return to work.
Senior Social Worker Brenda Holdren worries that even with government assistance money will be tight. The state is looking at a shortfall and she expects assistance dollars to be less than last year.
“We are desperately in need of money to help people to buy oil or pay electric bills,” Holdren said. “Just to keep these things going.”
Social Services is receiving several calls a day from people who are in need. They do their best to help but often can only make a referral to a local church or other organization.
“I anticipate its going to get worse,” Mullis said. “It’s not even cold yet.”
There are many folks in the county to worry about – the elderly, the disabled, next door neighbors who may be needy but not speaking up.
To donate to the Fuel Assistance Program, send funds to Department of Social Services, P. O. Box 160, Fincastle, VA 24090.
I wrote this article for The Fincastle Herald. It appeared in the November 11, 2008 edition.
This time of year is downright hard for folks who are having trouble with their finances. Add a predicted recession to that and you have a recipe for cold feet, ill health and plenty of woe.
The Fuel Assistance Program run by the Botetourt County Department of Social Services currently has no money in it. Folks who need a little help with their light bill or their heat have nowhere to turn.
Donations are way down.
“We are in desperate need. We have no money,” Social Services Director Mary Lou Mullis said.
The program helps people out with a one-time payment for fuel. Companies will only bring 100 gallons of fuel at a time, so with prices running high the coffers are quickly depleted.
This program does not use state or local dollars. While there are some state funds available for emergency uses, the crisis program does not begin until January and funding for that program is limited.
The Fuel Assistance Program often helps people who fall between the cracks. These are folks who may normally work but have recently lost a job due to illness or lay off. With no money coming in, they are at risk of losing their electricity or heat.
“The government does not give us money for those people,” Mullis said. Everyone who receives funds is checked out and the need is verified before dollars are handed over, she said.
These folks simply need a hand until they can get back on their feet. Most recently a woman who had been very ill called saying she had a $10 balance on her light bill; the electric company was on the way to shut off her power.
A call from Social Services kept her electricity on. However, the woman has no family in the area and her illness has kept her from work for a number of weeks. Mullis worried that she would suffer until she could get well enough to return to work.
Senior Social Worker Brenda Holdren worries that even with government assistance money will be tight. The state is looking at a shortfall and she expects assistance dollars to be less than last year.
“We are desperately in need of money to help people to buy oil or pay electric bills,” Holdren said. “Just to keep these things going.”
Social Services is receiving several calls a day from people who are in need. They do their best to help but often can only make a referral to a local church or other organization.
“I anticipate its going to get worse,” Mullis said. “It’s not even cold yet.”
There are many folks in the county to worry about – the elderly, the disabled, next door neighbors who may be needy but not speaking up.
To donate to the Fuel Assistance Program, send funds to Department of Social Services, P. O. Box 160, Fincastle, VA 24090.
I wrote this article for The Fincastle Herald. It appeared in the November 11, 2008 edition.
Thursday, November 13, 2008
Thursday Thirteen
1. The feel of the strings beneath my fingertips
2. The vibration as the note holds
3. The sound of the chord as the right hand strums
4. The rhythm of the music tapped out on the bass strings
5. Tonal changes as the right hand moves from the sound hole to the neck
6. Words that inspire even if sung off-key
7. Chords that combine to create epochs of power and a collective memory of the history of the world
8. The agility of fingers that fly over six strings and up and down the neck
9. The tranquility of soothing sounds that lull the soul into a space akin to intense meditation
10. Joy of perfection when a song has been mastered
11. A way to emote without ever giving voice to unspeakable feelings
12. A pathway to rejoicing and celebrating the splendorin life and the love of the heavens
13. Some of the reasons why I've gone back to playing my guitar
Thursday Thirteen is played by lots of people; you can learn more about it here. My other Thursday Thirteens are here.
Tuesday, November 11, 2008
Remembering A Veteran
To honor all the veterans, I am printing here, made public for the very first time, another piece of my Grandfather Joe's writings about his service in World War II.
This is a little long and this is not all of it.
You may read the first part here, if you like.
The Push: February 11, 1940
By Joe Bruffy
After two days of forced marching and hitting small pockets of resistance, the Company came to a small bombed out village that had been held by a company of SS German soldiers. They had traveled approximately 50 miles through mud and rain and without food except K rations. The commander, Captain Scott, ordered a rest stop.
Joe, John, and Tony found an old dugout cellar filled with moldy hay - at least it was dry.
They hung a wet blanket over the entrance, got out their K rations, built a small fire by burning the K ration wrappings, and with water from their canteens made themselves a cup of hot instant coffee. Joe opened a can of canned heat that come from K rations. He laid a piece of heavy string cut from his undershirt in the top of the can and with his trench knife pushed it in to a slit in the canned heat, lighting it with his cigarette lighter, and made a small candle. John had found three sugar beets somewhere along the way. The men cut them open and scrapped out the pulp with their trench knives. Tony said he had never eaten a better salad.
Orders came down from the C.P. for everyone to dig in for the night, that they were staying all night. Lt. Nolan came by and told them to put out a guard and stay where they were, that their position was as good as any place along the line.
Joe took the first watch, standing just outside the entrance. Tony and John went to sleep. Joe woke Tony up in four hours to relieve him, and he took Tony's bed. The night passed without action.
The next morning, Joe had contracted some type of a cold and was coughing and sneezing bad. He figured it was caused by sleeping in the moldy hay, but it caused an asthma reaction for years after that.
About 7 a.m. the Company kitchen had caught up with them and had sent up hot pancakes with apple butter and the kitchen Jeep. There were three pancakes to the man packed in clean garbage cans. John said he had never eaten better pancakes and he didn't know he loved apple butter so well, especially out of a garbage can.
That afternoon orders came down to get ready to move out; the Germans were driving out of France across the ziefrig line into Germany,and we were going in after them. After 3:30 p.m. the company moved out. Hitting some small resistance, accompanied by tank destroyers, they traveled approximately 60 miles.
The company had lost approximately 20 men wounded to K.I.A. on the advance. On the last 10 miles the going was very rough, as it had started snowing and had fell about four inches deep. Third squad had lost three men just before dawn. They had come out of the woods into a small meadow. There was a rock wall around the meadow.
Don Cory, the squad leader, gave orders to cross the meadow to the woods on the other side. The moon was in full and with the light snow it was like daylight. Joe told Don that it would be suicide to cross the meadow by going through.
Don said we haven't met anything in the last four hours. So in a staggered group of three they started across, Don and Spitler and Oads in the front, Joe, John and Tony were to follow, with McBeen and some others bringing up the rear.
After Don and the other two guys got approximately a third of the way across, John said let's go, but Joe said give them a little more time. No use all of us getting knocked off by STS. When Don was about half way across the Germans spotted them and opened up with 88 mortar artillery. All three of the first guys got hit.
After the artillery stopped they could see the three soldiers laying on the ground. By that time it had clouded up and began to snow heavy, plus it was beginning to get daylight. Joe told the others to go out one by one with five minute intervals. He would go first.
He came upon Spetzler, who was hit in the thigh. Motioning John to come on, they carried him to the other side. Don was dead, with a piece of shrapnel between his eyes. Oads was hit in the shoulder.
Joe motioned for the rest of the squad to come on. A couple of the guys got Oads, and Don's body was carried across by the rest of them. After getting across and giving Oads and Spetzler first aid the best they could, they finally located the platoon.
Joe got in touch with Lt. Nolon, and gave him an account of what happened. Lt. Nolan told Joe you are to take over the squad with the rank of staff sergeant. Joe said in no way will I be responsible for this squad. I have a hard enough time keeping myself alive, and I am not a glory hunter. After some cursing and raising hell, the Lt. sent Sergeant Clem Crawley out of the second platoon over to replace Don.
Sergeant Crawley was an old combat infantryman coming out of the 45 infantry and had seen lots of combat. He was a very soft spoken low key guy that never done anything without discussing it with Joe, John and Tony, as they were his three right hand men. The push continued on through the day without too many casualties and not too much excitement.
During the day several young replacements had been sent in to the Company. One, a young guy by the name of Bumgardner, was sent to the third squad. Clem put him under Joe's care. That night the Company was halted and told to dig in. About the time they started digging in the Germans opened an artillery barrage.
Bumgardner was helping Joe to dig a hole. The shells were hitting the trees and shrapnel and tree bursts were flying everywhere. Joe pulled Bumgardner down in a rootwall tree hole and waited until the shelling stopped. After a while it quieted down. They finished the fox hole and Bumgardner got sick and turned pale.
Joe asked him what was wrong and he said his left arm was numb. Joe split the sleeve of his field jacket from shoulder to wrist; Bumgardner's shirt and sweater was soaked with blood. Joe called the medic, who came and administered first aid. A piece of shrapnel had went through the bicep of his left arm. He was sent back to a field hospital and never did get back into combat.
After about 8 hours rest, the company was ordered to move out. They had now crossed the ziefreig line and was in German territory. The T.D.S. came up and the combat infantry was loaded on them and into Germany they started. After about ten miles they had caught up with the retreating Germans and a battle started.
Lt. Harris was hit in the legs with machine gun fire trying to cross a railroad. He was pinned down between the railroad ties. Ferrier, the little yankee boy from Brooklyn, zigzagged his way under heavy fire and pulled him back to safety. He was awarded the silver star. After several hours of heavy fighting and severe company losses on both sides, the Germans retreated. The CO gave orders to move out to the next village. The squad moved out without out incident, traveling about 20 miles. The company was halted for a rest and to eat K rations. The third squad stopped by an old barn. Everyone was worn out. The men all sat down, leaning against the wall of the barn.
Sergeant Crawley leaned his rifle against the wall and went to sleep. He slept for a while and woke up. He started to stretch out his legs and kicked his rifle; it fell down and accidentally went off, hitting him in the leg. The third squad never saw him no more after that. He had been a top notch sergeant. Again Lt. Nolan approached Joe, Tony and John, wanting one of them to take over the squad. All three refused.
The squad was kind of looked after by Lt. Nolan after that, without a squad leader. The three men kind of took the squad under their wing and it went along without a leader for a few days.
Finally Frezer was sent out of the second platoon to lead the squad; he led it until the end of the war. About the middle of March the snow was melting and spring was beginning to come; the apple trees and peach trees was in full bloom. They were in the Rhine River Valley and pushing on into the heart of Germany.
The company moved on to the top of a ridge. The third squad was on the extreme left, advancing up the hill. Just before getting to the top, they had hit some small arms fire. John and Joe were approximately 30 feet apart, crawling on their bellies. There was a small bush about one inch thick in front of John's nose, and he looked over at Joe and said he wondered how he was going to get around it.
When he turned his head back, the bush was gone. A German rifle bullet had cut it off at the top of the ground, and John went into one of his praying spells. After getting up the hill, the third squad dug in. A couple of young recruits not over nineteen was sent in to third squad as replacements. One of the young men was put with Joe, the other went with Tony.
Joe, knowing from past experience the first watch was the safest, put the young soldier on guard duty the first part of the night while he tried to get a couple hours of rest. After 12 o'clock he got up, and the young recruit laid down in the hole and went to sleep. About 2 a.m. the Germans opened up with 88 mortars and screaming mimmies. The shells were going over head as they did not have the range yet. The young recruit woke up and, hearing the shells and artillery, he went completely berserk and started out of the hole screaming.
Joe hit him in the jaw and got him quieted down. The young fellow sat sobbing. Joe went to the next hole to the phone, called the CO, he said to bring him down to the C.P. This was done by Joe and Tony; they never saw the young guy no more. They didn't even know his name.
This is a little long and this is not all of it.
You may read the first part here, if you like.
The Push: February 11, 1940
By Joe Bruffy
After two days of forced marching and hitting small pockets of resistance, the Company came to a small bombed out village that had been held by a company of SS German soldiers. They had traveled approximately 50 miles through mud and rain and without food except K rations. The commander, Captain Scott, ordered a rest stop.
Joe, John, and Tony found an old dugout cellar filled with moldy hay - at least it was dry.
They hung a wet blanket over the entrance, got out their K rations, built a small fire by burning the K ration wrappings, and with water from their canteens made themselves a cup of hot instant coffee. Joe opened a can of canned heat that come from K rations. He laid a piece of heavy string cut from his undershirt in the top of the can and with his trench knife pushed it in to a slit in the canned heat, lighting it with his cigarette lighter, and made a small candle. John had found three sugar beets somewhere along the way. The men cut them open and scrapped out the pulp with their trench knives. Tony said he had never eaten a better salad.
Orders came down from the C.P. for everyone to dig in for the night, that they were staying all night. Lt. Nolan came by and told them to put out a guard and stay where they were, that their position was as good as any place along the line.
Joe took the first watch, standing just outside the entrance. Tony and John went to sleep. Joe woke Tony up in four hours to relieve him, and he took Tony's bed. The night passed without action.
The next morning, Joe had contracted some type of a cold and was coughing and sneezing bad. He figured it was caused by sleeping in the moldy hay, but it caused an asthma reaction for years after that.
About 7 a.m. the Company kitchen had caught up with them and had sent up hot pancakes with apple butter and the kitchen Jeep. There were three pancakes to the man packed in clean garbage cans. John said he had never eaten better pancakes and he didn't know he loved apple butter so well, especially out of a garbage can.
That afternoon orders came down to get ready to move out; the Germans were driving out of France across the ziefrig line into Germany,and we were going in after them. After 3:30 p.m. the company moved out. Hitting some small resistance, accompanied by tank destroyers, they traveled approximately 60 miles.
The company had lost approximately 20 men wounded to K.I.A. on the advance. On the last 10 miles the going was very rough, as it had started snowing and had fell about four inches deep. Third squad had lost three men just before dawn. They had come out of the woods into a small meadow. There was a rock wall around the meadow.
Don Cory, the squad leader, gave orders to cross the meadow to the woods on the other side. The moon was in full and with the light snow it was like daylight. Joe told Don that it would be suicide to cross the meadow by going through.
Don said we haven't met anything in the last four hours. So in a staggered group of three they started across, Don and Spitler and Oads in the front, Joe, John and Tony were to follow, with McBeen and some others bringing up the rear.
After Don and the other two guys got approximately a third of the way across, John said let's go, but Joe said give them a little more time. No use all of us getting knocked off by STS. When Don was about half way across the Germans spotted them and opened up with 88 mortar artillery. All three of the first guys got hit.
After the artillery stopped they could see the three soldiers laying on the ground. By that time it had clouded up and began to snow heavy, plus it was beginning to get daylight. Joe told the others to go out one by one with five minute intervals. He would go first.
He came upon Spetzler, who was hit in the thigh. Motioning John to come on, they carried him to the other side. Don was dead, with a piece of shrapnel between his eyes. Oads was hit in the shoulder.
Joe motioned for the rest of the squad to come on. A couple of the guys got Oads, and Don's body was carried across by the rest of them. After getting across and giving Oads and Spetzler first aid the best they could, they finally located the platoon.
Joe got in touch with Lt. Nolon, and gave him an account of what happened. Lt. Nolan told Joe you are to take over the squad with the rank of staff sergeant. Joe said in no way will I be responsible for this squad. I have a hard enough time keeping myself alive, and I am not a glory hunter. After some cursing and raising hell, the Lt. sent Sergeant Clem Crawley out of the second platoon over to replace Don.
Sergeant Crawley was an old combat infantryman coming out of the 45 infantry and had seen lots of combat. He was a very soft spoken low key guy that never done anything without discussing it with Joe, John and Tony, as they were his three right hand men. The push continued on through the day without too many casualties and not too much excitement.
During the day several young replacements had been sent in to the Company. One, a young guy by the name of Bumgardner, was sent to the third squad. Clem put him under Joe's care. That night the Company was halted and told to dig in. About the time they started digging in the Germans opened an artillery barrage.
Bumgardner was helping Joe to dig a hole. The shells were hitting the trees and shrapnel and tree bursts were flying everywhere. Joe pulled Bumgardner down in a rootwall tree hole and waited until the shelling stopped. After a while it quieted down. They finished the fox hole and Bumgardner got sick and turned pale.
Joe asked him what was wrong and he said his left arm was numb. Joe split the sleeve of his field jacket from shoulder to wrist; Bumgardner's shirt and sweater was soaked with blood. Joe called the medic, who came and administered first aid. A piece of shrapnel had went through the bicep of his left arm. He was sent back to a field hospital and never did get back into combat.
After about 8 hours rest, the company was ordered to move out. They had now crossed the ziefreig line and was in German territory. The T.D.S. came up and the combat infantry was loaded on them and into Germany they started. After about ten miles they had caught up with the retreating Germans and a battle started.
Lt. Harris was hit in the legs with machine gun fire trying to cross a railroad. He was pinned down between the railroad ties. Ferrier, the little yankee boy from Brooklyn, zigzagged his way under heavy fire and pulled him back to safety. He was awarded the silver star. After several hours of heavy fighting and severe company losses on both sides, the Germans retreated. The CO gave orders to move out to the next village. The squad moved out without out incident, traveling about 20 miles. The company was halted for a rest and to eat K rations. The third squad stopped by an old barn. Everyone was worn out. The men all sat down, leaning against the wall of the barn.
Sergeant Crawley leaned his rifle against the wall and went to sleep. He slept for a while and woke up. He started to stretch out his legs and kicked his rifle; it fell down and accidentally went off, hitting him in the leg. The third squad never saw him no more after that. He had been a top notch sergeant. Again Lt. Nolan approached Joe, Tony and John, wanting one of them to take over the squad. All three refused.
The squad was kind of looked after by Lt. Nolan after that, without a squad leader. The three men kind of took the squad under their wing and it went along without a leader for a few days.
Finally Frezer was sent out of the second platoon to lead the squad; he led it until the end of the war. About the middle of March the snow was melting and spring was beginning to come; the apple trees and peach trees was in full bloom. They were in the Rhine River Valley and pushing on into the heart of Germany.
The company moved on to the top of a ridge. The third squad was on the extreme left, advancing up the hill. Just before getting to the top, they had hit some small arms fire. John and Joe were approximately 30 feet apart, crawling on their bellies. There was a small bush about one inch thick in front of John's nose, and he looked over at Joe and said he wondered how he was going to get around it.
When he turned his head back, the bush was gone. A German rifle bullet had cut it off at the top of the ground, and John went into one of his praying spells. After getting up the hill, the third squad dug in. A couple of young recruits not over nineteen was sent in to third squad as replacements. One of the young men was put with Joe, the other went with Tony.
Joe, knowing from past experience the first watch was the safest, put the young soldier on guard duty the first part of the night while he tried to get a couple hours of rest. After 12 o'clock he got up, and the young recruit laid down in the hole and went to sleep. About 2 a.m. the Germans opened up with 88 mortars and screaming mimmies. The shells were going over head as they did not have the range yet. The young recruit woke up and, hearing the shells and artillery, he went completely berserk and started out of the hole screaming.
Joe hit him in the jaw and got him quieted down. The young fellow sat sobbing. Joe went to the next hole to the phone, called the CO, he said to bring him down to the C.P. This was done by Joe and Tony; they never saw the young guy no more. They didn't even know his name.
Monday, November 10, 2008
A Good Day for the Nephew
My 17-year-old nephew shot his first buck on Saturday. He was using a muzzleloader.
While I hate to see the animals take a bullet, I also know that if they weren't hunted we would have no alfalfa left for the cattle.
The meat won't go to waste and so the deer won't have died for naught.
The nephew shot it in front of my house. I saw him kill it, as did his parents and one of his friends.
I am thankful he dropped it with one shot. It died instantly and there was no worry about having a wounded animal roaming the place.
This is not my favorite past time but I do recognize the importance of it to the hunters and the ecosystem, etc. But this is the time of the year when I wish I could afford a second house at the beach or something!
Saturday, November 08, 2008
Green Living
Today we went to the Green Living Expo at the Roanoke Civic Center.
While there are a lot of interesting things there, I was dismayed that it was all so expensive. Aside from changing out your light bulbs, everything costs thousands of dollars.
However, we don't want to make our house completely solar. There seemed to be this all-or-nothing mentality going on that I found disturbing.
We just want to run the well pump when the power is out. And if we could manage to take a few things off the power grid and run them all the time, so much the better.
That shouldn't entail a $16,000 solar panel. Not when we can run a battery for a fence charger off a tiny little solar panel. That is enough charge to zap a cow for thousands of feet. So surely there must be small solar panels that would run say, the dryer, that don't cost so much.
I am not an expert on these things, however, and the experts don't seem to want to deal with the small stuff.
We also have considered windmill power. But the new windmills again cost many thousands. We would prefer an old-fashioned type windmill, also, not a turbine. I think a windmill on the farm could be very useful.
The Green Living Expo had a lot of good exhibits; I don't mean to sound negative. It just didn't meet our needs very well at this time. I am sure that at some future date it will, when we are looking at different things.
Many websites dealing with homesteading and similar topics cover these items. They are generally out of the mainstream. I think the expo, which is of course attempting to make green living mainstream, has to be more "acceptable" at the present time. Some of the green items can be really out there.
While there are a lot of interesting things there, I was dismayed that it was all so expensive. Aside from changing out your light bulbs, everything costs thousands of dollars.
However, we don't want to make our house completely solar. There seemed to be this all-or-nothing mentality going on that I found disturbing.
We just want to run the well pump when the power is out. And if we could manage to take a few things off the power grid and run them all the time, so much the better.
That shouldn't entail a $16,000 solar panel. Not when we can run a battery for a fence charger off a tiny little solar panel. That is enough charge to zap a cow for thousands of feet. So surely there must be small solar panels that would run say, the dryer, that don't cost so much.
I am not an expert on these things, however, and the experts don't seem to want to deal with the small stuff.
We also have considered windmill power. But the new windmills again cost many thousands. We would prefer an old-fashioned type windmill, also, not a turbine. I think a windmill on the farm could be very useful.
The Green Living Expo had a lot of good exhibits; I don't mean to sound negative. It just didn't meet our needs very well at this time. I am sure that at some future date it will, when we are looking at different things.
Many websites dealing with homesteading and similar topics cover these items. They are generally out of the mainstream. I think the expo, which is of course attempting to make green living mainstream, has to be more "acceptable" at the present time. Some of the green items can be really out there.
Friday, November 07, 2008
Thursday, November 06, 2008
Thursday Thirteen: Dona Nobis Pacem
1. Let there be Peace now.
2. A hush all over the world.
3. Quietness inside that spills over
4. Into the heart and soul
5. Of every man, woman and child.
6. Let there be Peace now.
7. No division, no war.
8. No poverty and no pain.
9. May gratitude and love
10. Find each soul and swell it
11. Until only goodness and joy abide
12. If tears must fall, fill rivers
13. And let us all drink each other's sorrows.
Today is the Blogblast for Peace, which I have participated in before. I think it is always a good time to hope for Peace.
*Blogblast for Peace comes from Mimi Writes.*
Thursday Thirteen is played by lots of people; you can learn more about it here. My other Thursday Thirteens are here.
Wednesday, November 05, 2008
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