Eagle Rock Library Dedication

On Sunday, April 11, 2010, also the beginning of National Library Week, Botetourt County dedicated its new library in Eagle Rock.

This makes the county's fourth library. It is also the largest facility, coming in at 9,600 square feet. It boasts a dividable meeting room, a computer lab, a reading area, a genealogy area and a smaller reading room.



About 200 people turned out to welcome the new building to the north end of the county. The Eagle Rock area, which is the most sparsley populated part of the county, has been underserved for some time.



The building is made of a material called "Hardy Board" and local stone.



Library Board of Trustee member Genevieve Goss has represented the Fincastle District, which encompasses Eagle Rock, for almost eight years, and prior to that represented the Amsterdam District until the boundaries changed. She is a strong advocate for the libraries.



The dedication began with a rendition of the Star Spangled Banner, sung by Jayne Vest, wife of Library Director Steve Vest.



The crowd was most attentive during speeches from Ms. Goss, Supervisor Chairman Terry Austin, Fincastle District Supervisor Donna Vaughn, and the Library Director.



Library Director Steve Vest has spent the last 18 months working to make this facility a reality. He was the hot point man for county officials, the Library Board of Trustees, the architect, and many others. His hair whitened considerably in recent months.



The building was designed to fit in with a rural terrain. It has a backdrop of mountains. The day was absolutely perfect with brilliant blue skies, wonderful temperatures, and not a single cloud to mar the sunshine.



Mr. Vest introduced the new library branch head, Mike Hibben, and other staff members to the public.



The building inside features exposed beams, clear story lighting, and all new furnishings. It cost the county about $1.1 million to build and furnish.



Local civic groups provided refreshments for the event.



The library is opening with 17 computers available for public use. Some of the kids couldn't wait and were on the computers as soon as they could get in the building.



The shelves are not all full but they will be in time.



The genealogy collection.



The plaque with the name of the Supervisors and Library Board members on it. I have represented the Amsterdam District on the Library Board for eight years.

Walking Can Be Hazardous

Last Monday I made the courageous effort to go to the mailbox. I took the car down my very long driveway because I was headed out to Daleville.

I like to walk - I try to walk on the treadmill everyday and I enjoy the track at Greenfield, though I don't get to it nowhere near as often I'd like. I enjoy Cherry Blossom Trail, too. I would hike more but I don't like to go alone.

Anyway, I parked the car and headed across the road to fetch the mail. I removed the envelopes from the box and turned around. A car was coming, so I did a little hop/skip/jump to speed myself along. About midway across the road, I developed what felt like a cramp in the back of my left leg.

I remember thinking, "Oh, what a place to get a charlie horse, I hope I don't fall in the middle of the road," when this happened. I made it back to the car and massaged my leg. The cramp did not ease. I even tried the ol' "pinch the space beneath your nose" trick to make the cramp go away, but that did not work (it's an acupressure point and it does work, usually).

Oh well. I went on to the Business Expo at the high school, where I limped around for over an hour. I even stopped at the physical therapist's booth. "How do you get rid of a cramp?" I asked. They advised stretching it out. I found a wall and did a few stretches before heading off to the grocery store, where I limped around a bit more.

The cramp remained. I went home and put ice on my leg. By the next day my leg was swollen and you could see that an entire band of muscle was involved. The muscle was very tight and painful. I could barely walk. I began alternating heat and ice and that seemed to help a little.

Friday I visited my new doctor for an unrelated issue but asked her to take a look at my leg. At first she was concerned I had an embolism, which scared me, but she determined that was not the case. She advised me to keep using heat and ice and use an Ace wrap when I walk.

The Ace helps.

I had no idea that just getting the mail could be hazardous to my health.

You Can't Go Home Again

Even though I am a Botetourt girl through and through, and despite the fact that I can count back many generations to ancestors who settled here when Native Americans roamed the land and cougars scared the deer, I have not lived every single year of my life here.

The first seven years of my life were spent in Salem, mostly in the house you see above. My mother and father moved the family to Botetourt in 1971, to land just minutes from my maternal grandfather's homeplace.

My memories of the little house in Salem are fragmented. Sometimes they are funny, frequently scary, and often things I'd rather forget.

That tree on the right, for instance, holds a memory of terror for a four-year old. I was playing house around the tree. I vividly recall my doll (called my Grandma Doll because she had white hair) and a little chair that I sat her in. The tree too played a role in my little imaginary game. For some reason I determined it had been a very bad tree indeed and therefore must be whipped. As I stepped around to give the tree its due with a little limb from itself, I glanced down.

A golden snake had curled itself around the tree trunk. I panicked and raced inside. My mother was getting ready to go to work. I was so terrified I could not speak. Surely the word "blathered" was invented for such moments.

I remember my mother's anger and fear. Anger because I couldn't get out what had frightened me and fear because I was so terrified. Finally, I blurted out, "Snake!" between my tears and fits of crying. She went outside to look and then called my father. He was a policeman at the time. He came home and dispensed of the snake, which apparently was in such a state of bliss that it had made no move in all the time that took.

Earlier this week I cruised with a friend in search of my old house. It had been over 20 years since I'd last gone too look for it and I wasn't sure I would remember it. I drove by it once and wasn't 100 percent sure it was the right place, but on the second drive-by I viewed the tree from an angle that made it familiar. The snake memory came roaring back to me as if it were yesterday.

Other memories from this house involve red carpeting, hands being slammed in doors (not on purpose), learning there was no tooth fairy or Santa Claus (I figured that out at the tender age of five, alas), having my eyes burn from sand in them from my sandbox, eating a wild onion in the backyard (and then not eating onions again until I was past the age of 30), my brother eating a box of aspirins, my dolly getting burned up on the stove, box-kite flying, blood, a ghost sitting on my bed, my mother passing out in the floor because she was ill, and an assortment of other wild visions that race through my head when I consider my childhood.

But it is Botetourt that has my heart and my soul, though some might consider me a transplant in spite of  my family roots here, long, deep and strong as they may be. Still, I suppose I owe some allegiance to that tiny little girl who once tried to spank a certain tree.

Thursday Thirteen

Can't get enough of Spring after that awful winter!

1. Robins herald a new beginning.















2. Flowering trees bring great visual pleasure...


3. And pollen! (achoo!).

4. See how lovely the forest is? Nothing like a little color!



5. Majestic redbud!


6. Bradford pears. They've been spectacular this year.


7. Dandies and clover!


8. More redbuds, up close and personal.













9. My green lawn. (There is a turkey in this picture but it can barely be seen.)


10. Daffodils!

11. Early sunrise.



12. Barrels of blooms.


13. Early newborn.



Lots of people play Thursday Thirteen. You can read about it here. This is number 134 for me!

My Book Club

A number of years ago I joined a book club at what was then the Blue Kat Art Gallery in Fincastle.

The gallery, the brainchild of artist Dreama Kattenbraker, closed, much to my dismay, but the book club continued. We've been reading books together for a long time now.

Dreama, the heart and soul of the book club.



For a long time the group met monthly but attendance dwindled, so we changed it to bi-monthly. We met on April 1 and discussed Lime Tree Can't Bear Orange.

This book is a coming of age story about a young girl in the Carribean. It's a lovely tale and we all enjoyed it quite a lot.

Our club meetings can sometimes ramble and we often get off-topic. But we enjoy one another's company so much that it doesn't seem to matter.

For June we are reading The Help by Katheryn Stockett.

Books: Dance Upon the Air

Dance Upon the Air
By Nora Roberts
Read by Sandra Burr
Audio
Unabridged
Copyright 2001

Nora Roberts hits another homerun with this trilogy. Dance Upon the Air is the first book and I will be looking for the next two for sure.

Nell Channing has fled an abusive husband. She's run as far as possible - all the way to the other coast of the U.S. She ends up on Three Sisters Island, reputed to have been created from the sea by three witches during the Salem Witch Trials.

She meets Mia, a bookstore/cafe owner who gives her a job and a place to live. The energy between the two gives Mia, an established witch, an indication of the power Nell does not know she possesses.

Zach is the local sheriff. Nell is wary of him at first, for her flight from the west coast involved false information, faking her own death, and doing everything in her power to leave no trail. Eventually, though, sparks fly and romance begins.

Ripley, Zach's sister, also has a power of her own. Together the three women form an incarnation of the Three Sisters. Will they be able to work together to break a prophecy of doom?

Well-read with a strong plot. The character development was excellent.

Spring, I say! Spring!

Tiny grape hyacinths in my front yard!




The wood anemone is carpeting the leafy floor of the forest behind my house.




Forsynthia, you are my hero!

Happy Easter - Random Easter Thinking

I was raised without religion so when I was growing up this holiday was all about bunnies and chocolate. I don't recall attending an Easter Service until I was adult.

At my grandmother's house, we would fill plastic eggs with candy and hide them around her yard and then go seek them out. We took turns hiding them from one another and occasionally an adult would oblige us and hide them for us so we could all go hunting at the same time. The kids around would have been myself, my brother and my two uncles, who ranged in age from a year younger than I to four years older, with various cousins dropping in from time to time.



I remember getting up and seeing big Easter baskets a la Santa Claus on Easter morning. Some years they came with little garden tools or plastic lawnmowers but always lots of candy.

Our eggs came from chickens on the farm and they were mostly brown so we didn't dye them. Brown eggs simply don't dye that well. I remember my mother purchased white eggs a few times simply so we could dye them. I don't recall being all that excited about the process of watching them turn colors. I do remember being warned about being sure we found them all because otherwise they would stink if we left them lying about.



Because we raised chickens, I never wanted to receive a little chick on Easter.

Easter is a time of promise and renewal. A time of new beginnings. Outside my window I see green fields now where only a few weeks ago there was nothing but brown grass. In the far field the mustard has sprung up, leaving a yellow streak among the green. Daffodils dance in the wind. The trees have hints of green and the mountains are no longer dull. The leaves aren't out yet but their buds tint the landscape. The redbuds are opening, dogwoods are venturing forth and the birds are singing lustily from the trees.



I celebrate Easter and God's glory in the wonders of nature and the joyfulness of life. The sky is my cathedral, the trees my columns, the landscape my stained-glass windows, the damp earthy my pew. The Word of God is whispered on the wind if one only stops to listen and the Words are written all around us if we only open our eyes and look.

Life and Love.
Life and Love.
Life and Love.
Amen.

Thursday Thirteen

April Fool's! This is not my favorite day; I am too literal. But you jesters enjoy!




1. The most recent full moon is called the Full Worm Moon. This is because the ground is thawing and worms are showing up just in time for the robins to appear. Northern Native American tribes called this the Full Crow Moon, because you can hear their raucous noise now, or the Full Crust Moon, because the snow crusted over as it froze and thawed. Some call this the Full Sap Moon, because it is time to tap maple trees for syrup. It has also been called the Lenten Moon, last full moon of winter.

2. Many full moon names date back to Native Americans, who tracked the seasons by giving names to the full moons and using those names for the entire month thereafter. European settlers adopted the custom and in some cases created their own names.

3. In January, we see the Full Wolf Moon, so named because this is when the wolves howl. It is also called the Old Moon, Moon After Yule, or Full Snow Moon.

4. Full Snow Moon is seen in February, when there are usually the heaviest snows. This is also called the Full Hunger Moon (empty bellies).

5. In April we will see the Full Pink Moon, which comes from phlox, a spring flower. It is also sometimes called the Full Sprouting Grass Moon, the Egg Moon, and the Full Fish Moon, because this is when shad swim upstream to spawn.

6. In May we will see Full Flower Moon, because those April showers brought those May flowers. Other names are the Full Corn Planting Moon or the Milk Moon.

7. In June we will see the Full Strawberry Moon (yum!) among Native Americans but in Europe they called it the Rose Moon.

8. In July we will see the Full Buck Moon, so named because this is when bucks begin to grow their antlers. It is sometimes called the Full Thunder Moon (for obvious reasons) or the Full Hay Moon.

9. In August we will see the Full Sturgeon Moon, because this is the best time to catch sturgeon. It is also called the Green Corn Moon or Grain Moon.

10. September brings us the Full Corn Moon, because this is when corn is ready for harvest. This is also sometimes called the Harvest Moon.

11. The Full Harvest Moon is also the name of the moon in October. It has something to do with autumn equinox dates as to why this moon occurs in September or October.

12. In November, we will see the Full Beaver Moon, so called because this is the time to set beaver traps and bring in furs. This is sometimes called the Frosty Moon.

13. December brings the The Full Cold Moon, also called the Full Long Nights Moon or Moon Before Yule.


Thanks to my friend Inga for giving me the idea and information for this entry!

Lots of people play Thursday Thirteen. You can read about it here. My other Thursday Thirteens are here. This is number 133!

Turtles

Last night in my Life Planning seminar at Hollins, the facilitator brought in Aretha, a massage therapist and inner light sort of lady.

Aretha's message to us was to find our inner purpose. Find our rhythm, our bliss, our peace.

She then played a CD with the sounds of the ocean and lead us through a short guided imagery so that we could all then pick up our pens and paper and begin the hard work of figuring out who we are and what we want out of life.

During the imagery I slipped into something akin to a trance. I have long used imagery techniques and can quickly fall into my "safe place" when I am feeling frustrated and upset, provided I remember to do it. Sometimes I forget.

As I listened to the sounds of the waves, images of turtles came to me,* totally unbidden. Dark green and serene, floating along in the water. They were safe in their shells, carrying their homes on their backs. They had no worries for everything they needed was with them or right in front of them. They were smiling.

Perhaps I then fell asleep, because suddenly there appeared a turtle without a leg. No blood, but no leg, either. And that turtle too was swimming along, but not doing quite as well as his peers. He was missing a back leg, after all. And then as I looked I noticed that others were missing parts, too. Some had no front leg. Some had cracked shells. One was missing an eye. They were all injured in some way.

The turtles continued to forge through the water, their turtle faces still wearing what I was interpreting as a smile.

I came back to myself with a start, feeling bewildered and confused. I grabbed a piece of paper and wrote "turtles without legs?" on it so I wouldn't forget. Shortly thereafter, still feeling as if I were in a dream, I wrote "Lose the Fear" and circled it. And then I wrote "Find Your Courage" and circled that.

This morning as I look over my page, written while I rested in a different space from that which I normally dwell, I see other things:

Time for myself
Just be
Be Love
Beloved
Love
Leave it all
Start anew
Create my own dance
Laugh
Live because you must
What does the heart say


*The facilitator said absolutely nothing about turtles, so I don't know where that came from.*

A Blog Award

Alice Audrey over at Alice's Restaurant gave me this blog award, for which I thank her.

Alice is a Thursday Thirteen participant and so we visit one another weekly.

I truly have no idea what an "Honest Scrap" award is. Am I a scrapper in my writing? Do I hammer home my points (based on the visual in the award). Do I have thick arm muscles?

There are rules about these things, and here are the ones for this award:

Honest Scrap

You are supposed to nominate seven other bloggers for it, who can then do with it
what they will. The other portion of your assignment is to blog ten little known and interesting facts about yourself.

I am just going to say if you think you're an honest scrapper and you'd like this award, please take it! Instead of nominating anyone I am simply going to shout out to some of my favorite blogs. There's June over at Spatter, Colleen over at Loose Leaf Notes, Amy at Virginia Scribe, Becky at Peevish Pen, Diane at Blue Ridge Gal, Ginger at landuvmilknhoney, Beth at Blue Ridge Blue Collar Girl, and Lenora at Journal of Days. Check any of them out if you're looking for interesting reading.

Now for the important part. Those 10 facts.

1. My hair is brown and gray. I started going gray in my 20s. I do not call the color "gray" when I speak of it but instead consider it a "soft white." You know, like a light bulb.

2. My eyes are hazel. Sometimes they are blue. Sometimes they are green. Sometimes they are gray. Once someone told my eyes looked like cracked ice.

3. I have a scar on my chest that is 4 inches long (I just measured it). When I was in school, I used to be sure my gym teacher saw the scar. Then, if I didn't feel like running or whatever, I would simply lay my hands over my chest and say I didn't feel well. I was always automatically excused. I knew they thought I'd had some kind of heart surgery even though I would never lie and call it that. It wasn't heart surgery. I had a huge mole removed from my chest when I was five years old. If they'd asked I would have told them but they never did.

4. I would be better off today if I hadn't lain out of gym class so often when I was younger. This is a fact.

5. I knew from the first grade that I would be a writer.

6. In the second grade I was the best reader but the teacher would not give me an A because I did not read with inflection in my voice. She embarrassed me in front of the class by telling me this was why I did not get a better grade, and then demonstrated it by reading in a monotone and making the class laugh.

7. I used to chew my fingernails very badly. Now I just keep them clipped back very short. Occasionally, particularly when I am reading, I might still take a chomp.

8. I grind my teeth at night.

9. I once started to write a book on Mary Johnston but when I went to do the research, I discovered I was severely allergic to the boxes of her papers at the University of Virginia Library. I abandoned the project.

10. I do not have a favorite book or a favorite author.

The Power of Words

Language is the way we communicate and it is the way we persuade.

Word usage can make the difference between positive and negatives, good and bad, black and white. It can make things clearer or it can muddy the waters so much that the reader (0r listener) will never see the bottom of the pond.

The media today is full of language that, as far as I am concerned, are disingenuous twistings of meanings. The words are meant to convey one thing while meaning something else.

Sometimes words even lose their meaning because no one really knows what they are talking about.

Examples:

Cost-Recovery Program for EMS. This is a local program wherein you have to pay when the rescue squad comes and gets you. The county charges insurance companies only and if you have no insurance, supposedly you do not receive a bill. When I was writing about this for the newspaper, I insisted on calling it "pay for service" because that is really what it is. Cost Recovery is just a bureaucratic way of hiding what the program really does.

Death tax v. estate tax. Calling a tax on a multi-million dollar estate a "death tax" strikes fear into the heart of the little fellow who will never have a million dollar estate, much less a multi-million dollar estate, regardless of his hopes and dreams.

Death panel v. end-of-life counseling. Death panel? Really? Come on. End of life counseling is a great thing. It is greatly needed in this country. As I understand it, end of life counseling in no way precludes someone from getting care but it does make sure that a person making decisions has all the information.

Bank bailout/ Wall Street bail out. Let's call 'em what they are, shall we? Redistribution of wealth and class warfare.

Middle class. Who is middle class? Does anyone know? Working class? Upper class? Lower class? Poor? Apparently everyone is middle class these days. But they aren't. Can we have some honesty here and acknowledge that the USA has a large number of poor people and working class people and these folks are struggling?

GM Bailout. This was no bailout. This was a government takeover of a privately-owned business, and it is the reason why Toyota has been appearing before Congress.

USA PATRIOT ACT. This is a good example of giving something an acronym or name when it really means something else. The name implies this Act is good for America and anyone who opposes it is unpatriotic (which is a really bad thing to be in this country). In reality, this thing took away rights, allowed the government to peek at the books you check out in the library, and went a long way towards creating the climate of police state that we now have here.

Iraq War, Afghanistan War. Are these really wars, or are they police actions? Are they police actions, or are they grabs for oil? Why are we there, really? Can we have a little truth?

Terrorist/Terrorism. This is a word that has lost its meaning for me because it has so many meanings. I think the folks who throw rocks through government windows or slash gas lines of brothers of folks in Congress are domestic terrorists. Militant Christians can terrorize just as well as a Muslim. We need new descriptions.

NIMBY. The Not-in-My-Back-Yard acronym angered me recently when someone used it with me. It is a pejorative used to immediately imply that those opposing an issue are wrong and have no reasons for opposition other than "because."

Pro-life, Pro-abortion. The left lost this one when the right adopted a "pro-life" stance and the media continued to use it. NPR just issued a new policy that will remove the use of these words from its language on the radio and in its writing. They will use abortion rights advocates and abortion rights supporters. Many folks in the comments at the link are objecting to these changes, mostly from the right. To their mind saying "abortion rights" implies that NPR is leftest and supporting abortion rights. I guess the commentators could get even more ungainly and say "those who support lack of choice when it comes to abortion" "those in favor of choice when it comes to abortion" or something. I am not arguing this issue so please don't take me to task for it; I'm not stating my thoughts on the issue but on the language used to describe the issue. I am not publicly saying where I stand on this as it is no one's business but my own.

What are other language uses today that are torturing and twisting the tongue and bruising the mind as we try to understand one another?

What can we do to speak clearer and say what we mean?

Do we really want to be messaged to death instead of understanding?

The Living Room Bed

Last week Peggy Shifflett, author of The Living Room Bed: Birthing, Healing and Dying in Traditional Appalachia, presented me with my very own copy of her self-published book.



The author, Peggy Shifflett.

I edited this book for her back in January and early February. I really enjoyed working with her and learned that this type of work, that is, editing for folks, is something I desire. I like editing. I think I do a decent job and Peggy seemed pleased.

I really liked being able to hold the finished product in my hands. I stood salivating over it for the longest time after I returned home with it. It is a bit memoir, a bit history, a bit nostalgia, and partly social commentary. I understand from Peggy that she already has quite an audience for her books in the Shenandoah Valley.

She also thanked me in the acknowledgements, which was very kind. This is the fourth book that has mentioned me in the acknowledgements and I am always quite flattered. I also suspect that being mentioned in a book acknowledgement is not something that happens to anyone very often, so I feel very humbled by that.



The cover of the book.



The back of the book.

With chapters such as Midwives of Hopkins Gap, Gender Mattered, Recovering from Childhood Illnesses and Courtship and Marriage, a reader can obtain a historic and eye-opening understanding of the hard life of Appalachian mountain folk prior to the 1960s (and some of these people still live like this today).

Peggy talks about how difficult it was to sleep three or four children to a bed, what it was like to have to go outside to the outhouse, and how horrible it was to be a girl in a patriarchal and overly religious society. Her insight into these kinds of social mores is fascinating. She also interviewed a wide range of folks in Virginia, covering a stretch from Grayson County to Rockingham County, so the book offers up numerous perspectives of the hard life of mountain folk.

If you have any interest in Appalachian history, folk life, or folklore, I urge you to look for one of Peggy's books in gift shops in the Shenandoah Valley. You can also order directly from her. She is in the process of putting up a website but you can email her for ordering information at pshiffle@radford.edu. The book lists for $22.


Disclosure: I'm not receiving any money for promoting this book, but I was paid to edit it.

Winter's Over

The hay fields are starting to green up!


I have begun the process of installing fences around my flower beds to keep away the rabbits and deer. I will put up a taller fence of plastic netting behind the short fence - this will be to keep out deer. The rabbits eat the plastic netting so one must have two fences these days.



Oh daffodil! How I love your yellow blooms! You are the herald of spring, trumpeting out the news.



Perfect pansy, thank you so much for giving my deck a little color!



Purple and blue pansies, I adore you!

Thursday Thirteen

Dreams and Goals

1. My Life Planning class at Hollins University on Tuesday night focused on goals. As we worked, I started wondering what the difference is between a dream and a goal. Are they the same thing? Mutually exclusive? Does one become the other? I dream of writing a novel . . . it needs to become a goal and then a reality. What are your dreams? Are they different from your goals? Are your dreams and goals different from your reality? Can you change that? Do you want to?

2. My brother told me he has lost 25 pounds in the last three weeks on some diet that involves seeing a doctor weekly and taking vitamin shots. While I am pleased that he is losing weight, I worry about his health. Everything I have ever read about weight loss says it is not healthy to lose weight that quickly. His goal is to be a slim and svelte and he's taken action to make it a reality. I admire that, but still. Be healthy, folks!

3. When I was young, I wanted to be a writer, an archaeologist, a historian, a geologist, a musician, and a teacher. Of those, I am a writer and an amateur historian. I suppose I am a teacher sometimes through my writing and I once spent a year as a substitute teacher in the county schools (I will never do that again!). I once played the guitar professionally in a Top 40 band, but that was when I was in high school. Being an archaeologist and a geologist was never more than a dream.

4. I always wanted a college degree and I really wanted it from Hollins. It took me eight years to get my four-year degree, but I did it and when I had the sheepskin in my hand, it was also completely paid for. Graduation was my goal and I achieved it - with honor!

5. I began working on my Masters of Arts in Liberal Studies degree, also at Hollins, but 18 years later, I am still four classes and a thesis short of having it. This was never a solid goal and I could not - and still can't - figure out what good it would do me to have it so I stopped pursuing it when money became tight and didn't go back.

6. I don't know a single woman who has ever retired to go play golf or sit around and whittle or whatever. Every retired woman I know works her butt off keeping the house clean or volunteering or keeping the grandkids. I have no goals to retire, since that is the case.

7. What's going on in the nation with regards to the health care bill is rather scary, I don't care what side a person is on. Understanding this is an immediate concern for me. I urge folks not to listen to the propaganda from the media on either side. Read the thing for yourself and then make up your mind. You can read the main bill here and then reconciliation changes here. Yes, it is long and it legal language and it can be confusing, but if you live in a world of truth and reality, as opposed to one of propaganda and half-truths and distortions, I urge you to take the time to try to sort it out. I haven't plodded through it all yet but I am slowly moving through it. It is a goal.

8. Some days are so difficult to plod through that the shower at the end of the day becomes the goal. Other days are so wonderful and inspiring that the goal is to never let it end.

9. Making loads of money has never been a major goal for me. I have always been pretty happy with "just enough," whatever that is. I wonder sometimes if I would have gone further in life if I had been a little more greedy, but then I look at greedy people and am not unhappy that I am otherwise.

10. I would very much like to travel to California to see my grandmother, who just turned 90. For a number of reasons, I cannot make the trip. Is this a dream or a goal? Or is it something else, like a desire, that I haven't even touched on?

11. I have a weight loss goal which at present is elusive. I haven't found the magic combination of foods that keep me feeling okay and yet able to lose weight. I am not sure there is such a combination. If a goal remains unattainable, does it then become a dream? If I decline to follow my brother's example, for instance, because I think it unhealthy, does that mean I am not sincere in my goal? Is this goal also just a dream?

12. Recently I dreamed about neon green spiders, dungeons, and my husband. Those types of dreams are really just dreams. Except for my husband. He's pretty real. Except for when he is in my dreams. I'm getting confused!

13. You are what you are. You can make it hard or you can make it easy; you can chase after dreams and pursue goals, you can run races or walk fast and still get to the same place. The journey is up to each of us. Pursue your dreams, set your goals. Embrace life.

That's all for today!



Lots of people play Thursday Thirteen. You can read about it here. My other Thursday Thirteens are here. This is number 132!

A Lovely Memory

Last week my aunt called and told me she'd found something amongst some of my grandmother's items that she thought I might like.

After a visit, she gave me two little Grandma and Grandpa banks. I was delighted.

I gave these to my grandparents in 1974, when I was 11 years old. I vividly remember their purchase. My parents were Christmas shopping in downtown Roanoke and we went into the Mr. Peanut Store. The Peanut Store had a Mr. Peanut roaster and a big statue of Mr. Peanut, complete with monocle and top hat.

Aside from peanuts and candies, the store offered a variety of gift items. And on a shelf were the Grandma and Grandpa banks.

I had to have them for my grandparents. I thought they were cute, different and a bit of a joke because they were a retirement fund in pennies.

My grandmother loved them, probably because I gave them to her, and she placed them in a spot of honor on her small secretary. It had a shelf with my favorite books - a selection of great literature (The Silver Skates, Huckleberry Finn, etc.) and her treasure of Little House on the Prairie books. For years the little banks sat separated on the shelf, one on each side of the books.

As the years passed and my grandmother sold her things and her home for her personal care, not to mention a move to Georgia to live with my aunt for a while, I wondered about the little banks. I figured they went out in a yard sale long ago.

I mentioned them to my aunt once in a conversation, asking if she remembered them. I did not expect her to find them, so I was very pleased when she did and then gave them to me.

Grandpa and Grandma now have a place of honor on the shelf in my living room. I daresay they will mean nothing to anyone else in the future, but for me they are a treasure of a memory - a remembrance of myself as a young girl, eager to please her grandparents, and the delight my grandmother took in showcasing something so ordinary.

Books: Sea Glass

Sea Glass
By Anita Shreve
Read by Kyra Sedgwick
Abridged
Copyright 2002

Sea glass are shards of glass that wash ashore onto the beach. The glass no longer has rough edges; they've been worn by the waves and saltwater. Some of the pieces sparkle like jewelry.

Honora finds the sea glass along the beach where she and her husband, Sexton, have settled immediately prior to the stock market crash of 1929.

This event has a great impact upon this couple's life, and the lives of the other characters in the book. The story unfolds from multiple viewpoints (which made it a difficult audio book, to be sure, as I listened to it in the car and occasionally forgot who was speaking) and the characters all come together in the second half of the book.

Honora is a young woman who thinks she loves her husband. She wants a family, a nice home, the white picket fence. Her husband is a salesman, and he turns out to be a rather oily and smarmy fellow in the end. The question of whether Honora will end up with dashed hopes and dreams is central to the book.

Vivian is another main character. She is high society and she moves in a different circle, yet she befriends Honora and becomes a central figure in her life.

The story is set in New Hampshire, and while the timing is nearly a century ago, with the current economic climate the realities of harsh living will ring true.

This book is exquisitely written, the characters wonderfully drawn, and the setting portrayed well enough that I know what that area of the U.S. looks like without ever having been there.

Many themes are apparent: life, death, hope, love. This is a brilliant book, solid and sturdy as a New Hampshire fishing village.

The Big 9-0

Today my Grandmother B., who lives in California, turns 90!

That is old. But not so old to me as it used to be. These days 90 looks pretty young!

Grandma was born in West Virginia. She married my grandfather Joe (he died in 1989) young and they had three boys - Ken, Jerry and my father - and a girl, Elizabeth. Eventually the family moved to Salem, VA, somewhere about 1960. They lived in the house behind my maternal grandmother off East Riverside Drive.

In 1963, not long after I was born, they left for California. My father stayed behind while everyone else headed west.

As a result, I did not see much of my grandparents and really do not know my father's side of the family. I talk to my grandmother frequently on the phone but it is a rather one-sided conversation because she cannot hear well.

However, at 90, she seems to be doing okay. She still lives alone. Uncle Ken lives a few houses away and he looks in on her everyday. She has a cleaning woman come in to take care of things. I think she still cooks but she told me on the phone yesterday that she thought it was time she gave that up because her poor vision did not allow her to read the recipes.

So happy birthday, Grandma B! I hope that whatever years you have left are good ones.