Thought for the day: Time is but a stream I go a-fishin' in. I drink at it, but while I drink, I see the sandy bottom and detect how shallow it is. Its thin current slips away, but eternity remains. [Henry David Thoreau]
I didn't just want to go fishing in it; I wanted to stand in it. I wanted to feel the waters of time swirl around my feet, to be made poignantly aware once again of its dual nature of fleeting and eternal. I wanted to hear the haunting call of the seagulls, and breathe in the distinctive briny scent of the ocean. And five years ago...when Smarticus took this picture of me at Myrtle Beach... he and and our friends Kati and Cliff allowed me to do just that. Even though none of them share my passion for the ocean, they indulged me by granting me some time to stand in the surf and replenish my soul. I appreciated it more than I could say. Having them do that for me was humbling and made me feel cared for.
Recently, while struggling to keep my footing in a surf of swirling emotions, I momentarily felt as alone as I look in that photo. As a number of you already know, Smarticus... AKA Mike... my Number One and only... went into the hospital last week. Watching that ambulance take him away and knowing that because of coronavirus safety precautions, we can't see each other while he's there, was as painful as a kick in in the solar plexus. With a steel-toed pointy boot. But thankfully, that devastating feeling of being totally alone has passed.
Our kids and friends circled the wagons, reminding me that I'm not alone at all... and that circle includes you guys. I'm humbled by your expressions of concern, and I appreciate your outreach more than I can say. Thank you.
We can... and do... talk on the phone multiple times a day. He's been getting treatments to ease his pain and make him more comfortable, and he'll be transferred to an acute physical therapy place today, where the hope is to get him back on his feet again so he can come home. Believe me, if anybody can accomplish that, he can. Then we'll be ready to tackle whatever comes next. For more than 51 years, I've leaned on him, and now it's his turn. He can relax and lean on me now, and much to my surprise, I've discovered that I'm more than strong enough to hold us both up. We've got this, and we're still laughing together... even if it's only over the phone for now.
I'd planned to post the following video last Friday for Memorial Day, but you know what they say about the best-laid plans. But ya know what? It isn't too late to post it. I'm one of those strange folks who still thinks of Memorial Day as falling on May 30, as opposed to the last Monday of the month, so as far as I'm concerned, this post is right on time.
Yesterday's newspaper said we've now surpassed 100,000 deaths from the coronavirus here in the U.S. It's hard to wrap our minds around such a big number, isn't it? Hard to imagine such a profound loss. It's as difficult to assimilate the number of global deaths from this virus as it is to grasp the huge numbers representing the men and women who've died during wartime. Stark heartless numberstend to dehumanize the reality of each of those individual deaths. In 2013, British artists Jamie Wardley and Andy Moss organized an amazing artistic endeavor called The Fallen that poignantly depicts the reality of the 9000 who lost their lives on the beaches of Normandy:
To those who died, honor and eternal rest; to those still in bondage, remembrance and hope; to those who returned, gratitude and peace. [engraved on the Illinois Vietnam Veterans Memorial]
[Yes, that's my hubby in the header pic... taken when he was a grunt in Vietnam. He's writing me a letter...]
Again, thank you all. Your caring truly lifted me up. And psssst... keep smiling. I am.
Until next time, take care of yourselves. And each other.
Thought for the day: The most precious jewels that have ever been around my neck are the arms of my grandchildren.
Because I wrote the past few posts prior to the holidays, this is the first one written since the new year began, so Happy New Year, y'all!
We spent the Christmas holidays with our older son and his family, and it was fantastic, as always.
Have you ever baked cookies with four grandchildren and three dogs? Um, not that the dogs actually did any of the cookie-making or baking, but they were definitely a presence. To say it was a chaotic and joyful experience would be a gross understatement.
While we were there, the kids asked me which of them I loved the best, so I did what any grandma would do. I told each of them, "I love YOU best, because..." followed by a list of wonderful things that makes each of them special.
Reminded me a little of when a bunch of my cousins had a reunion a few years ago. An older cousin said she was the only one of all the grandchildren that Nana ever allowed to spend the night with her. Then the rest of us piped in about all the times WE'D spent the night. Nana had a LOT of grandchildren, but somehow, she managed to make each of us feel like her favorite. Was your grandmother the same way? What a wonderful talent to have.
During our visit, our eight-year old grandson Aaron asked me why I call Grandpop Smarticus. Turns out, he's been reading my blog. (!) (Which, of course, means he has impeccable taste. HA!) He lamented that when he Googled his siblings, he found links to my blog, but when he Googled his own name, he came up with a lot of pictures of some old guy with the same name. So this post is just for Aaron. By tagging it with his name, hopefully, he'll find himself when he does a Google search next time. Along with some fun pictures.
Check out all those curls! This is a pic of Aaron from Thanksgiving of 2012.
Also from Thanksgiving of 2012, here's a pic of our son with his whole crew. The children, from left to right, are Aaron, Jaiden, Devyn, and Kymber.
Aaron, in August of 2013. What a smile! He looks like a professional model, doesn't he?
The cutie crew, Christmas, 2012.
Also Christmas, 2012. Who can resist Devyn's smile? (I can't.)
First day of school, 2015.
July, 2015. We all went to the premiere viewing of Minions. (Loved it!) The cutie between cool cat Aaron in those snazzy sunglasses and his sister Kymber is their cousin McKenzie.
Christmas, 2015, and the Minions are still the best thing ever... both for Aaron and Grandpa Smarticus.
Christmas, 2015, and even Grandma has a pair of Minions softies. Smarticus and I are still big Minions fans, but alas, the kids have outgrown them. (Hmmm, not sure what that says about US...)
Now for some pictures from this Christmas...
Kymber & Devyn
When I asked Aaron to stand still so I could take his picture, he wanted to know if I was gonna put it on my blog. (Which gave me the idea to do this post for him...)
You've gotta love a gal who not only wears Elf pajamas, but happily poses in them so her goofy mother-in-law can take a picture.
Jaiden was thrilled to get a compound bow for Christmas.
Smarticus putting said bow together. (HA! And he thought his putting-stuff-together for Christmas days were over...)
Kymber was sooooo excited to get an adorable little hamster... and just a tiny bit apprehensive.
Leo and Troy were also very excited about the hamster. So was Stormy, but she was temporarily exiled for being a wee bit TOO excited. I'm sure it didn't mean a thing that Troy (the Huskie) kept licking his chops while observing the little critter...
Books written by two fellow bloggers provided great reading material for Aaron and Kymber.
Okay, y'all. Thanks for indulging me so I could make Aaron happy.
We saw the new year in with our friends in Tennessee. We stayed up waaaaay too late, but we had a terrific time. Lots of games, lots of laughter. The PERFECT way to end one year and begin another.
Before Christmas, I posted this cartoon on Facebook, which initiated some funny comments from our Tennessee pals, suggesting Smarticus and our buddy could maybe benefit from a similar air freshener...
I must say... the fresheners didn't work, but they did make for a great photo op...
So again, Happy New Year. Let's hope this year doesn't stink.
Until next time, take care of yourselves. And each other.
Thought for the day: Friendship is not one big thing... it's a million little things.
Okay, so maybe friendship doesn't need words. I guess it's possible to maintain a comfortable silence when hanging out with good friends, and I'm sure it wouldn't kill us to keep our mouths shut once in a while. Not that Smarticus and I areever likely to know that for a fact, mind you, because for the most part, when we're hanging out with any of our friends, we're with talkers, story-swappers, and laugh-until-our-sides-hurt kinda people. Laughter is the shortest distance between friends.
We'll be visiting with two very special friends for the next four or five days, which means I won't be online for a while. In fact, I'm not here now. (Dontcha love being able to pre-schedule posts???) Since I'm AWOL and may not get around to responding to your comments or paying return visits to your blogs, I considered disabling the comments for this post, but I decided to let 'em be. If you choose to leave a comment, I promise I will read it, but no promises about responding or paying a return visit to your blog this time around, okay?
Anyhow, in anticipation of all the fun we're gonna have with our buddies, I got to thinking about friendship. What does it mean to bea friend? What does friendship mean to you? And do our expectations and criteria change over the years?
Never mind. What a stupid question. Of course our criteria changes! When I was a kid, everybody was my best friend. I had absolutely no filters in place, so I was just as friendly with the wonderful people who had my back as I was with those who treated me like crapola. I guess I was kinda like a puppy dog. At some point, though, I reckon we all have to learn that it's okay to choose who we want to be friends with based on more than them simply being alive or giving us an occasional pat on the head.
Friends are the bacon bits in the salad bowl of life.
That's a good way to put it, isn't it? Delightfully savory bacon bits. Friends are also the decadent frosting on our cake, the people we can depend on, and who can depend on us. Together, we double our joys and halve our sorrows. We get each other.
Good friends don't let you do stupid things... alone.
Remember the pinkie swears of youth, the shared secrets, and the oh-so-serious ritual of becoming blood sisters and brothers? I must confess, my girlfriend Caryl and I wanted to be blood sisters, but we weren't all that keen about cuttingourselves. I mean, we were practically joined at the hip since we met in first grade, and we loved to sing together and got into all kinds of fun mischief together for many years, so we simply had to be blood sisters! But... cut ourselves? Uh... no thanks. The guys could play mumblety-peg (Anybody remember that?) and slice themselves in the name of friendship with their ever-present pocket knives all they wanted, but us? Nuh-uh. Ain't no way. We simply picked at our scabs until we got enough of a trickle to mix. (Hush! Same principle, right?)
No more pinkie swears as adults, but we do still share confidences and keep secrets. No more blood brothers and sisters, either. (I still have an aversion to cutting myself, and it's been decadesyearsmonths days since I've had a ready supply of scabs on my knees.) But after all these years, my childhood blood sister and I still keep in touch, especially since she had some experimental (and successful!) chemotherapy about six years ago. As a side effect, she lost many of her childhood memories, so she asked me to help her fill in the blanks, an undertaking that's brought both of us an incredible amount of pleasure. She even flew down from Maryland to visit earlier this year, and even though it'd been decades since we last saw each other face-to-face, it was as though we'd never been apart.
Friends are people who know the song in your heart, and can sing it back to you when you forget the words.
[morguefile]
When I was eleven years old or so, I learned a little something about friendship. It happened on a beautiful warm evening in late spring, when the scent of lilacs filled the air. My neighbor friend Diane and I were chatting, giggling, and strolling to the elementary school so we could attend a pre-teen dance there, and as was fairly common in our neighborhood, seagulls were providing background music by soaring majestically above us, squawking their familiar cries.
BOMBS AWAY! [morguefile]
And then one of the seagulls zeroed in on us. Or to be more precise, it zeroed in on Diane. Like a miniature dive bomber, that squawking bird swooped down, and FWOP! splatted a big ol' load of multi-colored poop all over her. Unless you've experienced it, you have no idea how much poop a seagull can fwop. Or how colorful it can be. Trust me, it was a lot. And colorful. On her. On the shoulder of her shirt, and all down the front of her. I'm telling you, the expression on her face was priceless, and I, her dear sweet loving friend, wiped most of that nasty stuff off with my bare hands, and then oh-so-gently wrapped my lightweight jacket around her shoulders. "There, there," I crooned in my most empathetic voice. "It'll be all right."
[morguefile]
Yeah, right. You guys don't know me at all, do ya?
So sue me. I laughed. I laughed my silly arse off. And then I laughed some more. Diane, alas, failed to see the humor in the situation, and insisted on going back home. So, no dance. We went back to her house and watched TV. I learned right there and then how important it is for friends to laugh... together.
Now, before you judge me too harshly for laughing, this is the same Diane who helped break my parents' bed, and then took off like a scared rabbit and left me to deal with the mess by myself. Besides, if the seagull had pooped on me? I would've laughed just as hard. (Come on... it was funny!)
We are best friends. Always remember that if you fall, I will pick you up... after I finish laughing.
Whether you have one or two good friends, or so many you can't keep count, nothing's more wonderful than spending time with people who get you, no matter how weird you can be. If you're very very lucky, you might even be married to one of them. (Yes, I am very very lucky.)
Best friends know how weird you are, but still choose to be seen with you in public.
[morguefile]
No matter how old we are, whether we're very young and fervently declaring our status as best friends forever five minutes after we meet...
[morguefile]
or teenagers filled with insecurities, and learning more about ourselves and the world, bonding over common interests and shared secrets...
[morguefile]
or old codgers who've shared a lifetime of memories, and a lifetime of priceless friendship...
friendship is a vital part of our lives. As tasty as they may be, we don't need bacon bits on our salads, but we do need friends.
The friends we're gonna be with for the next four or five days? The bestest. We all get each other. We'll play a lot of games, swap a lot of lies, and boyohboy, will we ever laugh. Forget sleep, though. We aren't likely to get a lot of that, because we always squeeze as much as we can out of our time together.
Oh, and in case you're wondering, if a bird happens to poop on any of us, you can count on me. I'm gonna laugh. And even better? So will the other three...
How about you? When you hear the word friend, is there anyone in particular who immediately comes to mind? A childhood friend... a current friend... a blogging pal... a writing partner... or best of all... someone who's been your friend forever? Wanta tell us a little bit about that person?
Good friends are hard to find, harder to keep, and impossible to forget.
I may respond to your comments next week. (If I can stay awake...)
Until next time, take care of yourselves. And each other.
P.S. In case parts of this post seem familiar to you, what can I say? You've got a great memory! Yes, it's an updated version of a post I did a few years ago.
Thought for the day: Friendship is unnecessary, like philosophy, like art... it has no survival value; rather it is one of those things which gives value to survival. [C.S. Lewis]
[image from Morguefile]
When I was a young girl, a framed piece of embroidery hung on my bedroom wall, and it was comprised of a big sprawling tree, two people standing under it, and the words, Friendship is a sheltering tree.
And that's true, isn't it? Friends pull together and help shelter each other from the many storms in life, while doubling our joys and halving our sorrows. It may not be one big thing that binds us together, but rather, a million little things over the course of time.
A friend is someone who reaches for your hand and touches your heart. [author unknown]
Looking back, I've been blessed with many wonderful friends, but since I started blogging, my concept of friendship has changed in ways I never would've thought possible. Now, some of the men and women I think of as friends... as people I genuinely care about... are people I've never actually met face-to-face. And probably never will.
YOU are very likely one of them.
Today, I was planning to do a blog post about something super cool Smarticus and I did on our anniversary, but my conscience pushed me in a different direction. While he and I were celebrating our 49th anniversary, another blogging author was grieving the death of her husband. I know who Lee is, but she probably doesn't know me from Adam, but still... I felt compelled to do something.
So I'm going to do what many other bloggers and members of the IWSG have done. I'm going to tell you about her latest book, which was released just two days before her husband died. Needless to say, she can't bear the burden of promoting her book right now, but we, her fellow bloggers and writers, can. This can be our one little thing to show her wecare. Our chance to be her sheltering tree.
Perhaps you'd like to mention her new book on your blog? Or some of her many other books? Maybe purchase one or two...? It may not be much, but it's... something.
Her books may be called juvenile fiction, but then... so are the Harry Potter books. I believe this is the third book of a trilogy, so I'm gonna have to start with book one. Care to join me?
Pete’s stuck in medieval England!
Pete and his friend Weasel thought they’d closed the Time Lock. But a young page from medieval times, Peter of Bramwell, goes missing. His absence during a critical moment will forever alter history unless he’s found.
There’s only one solution - fledgling wizard Pete must take the page’s place. Accompanied by Weasel and Fanon, Pete’s alligator familiar, they travel to 1173 England.
But what if the page remains lost - will Pete know what to do when the critical moment arrives? Toss in a grumpy Fanon, the duke’s curious niece, a talking horse, and the Circle of Stones and Pete realizes he’s in over his young wizard head yet again...
C. Lee McKenzie has a background in Linguistics and Inter-Cultural Communication, but these days her greatest passion is writing for young readers. When she’s not writing she’s hiking or traveling or practicing yoga or asking a lot questions about things she still doesn’t understand.
Seeing's as how this is June first, the window has closed for entries to receive an autographed copy of my new book Explosive Beginnings. I will announce the winner on next Wednesday's IWSG post. Good luck! Until next time, take care of yourselves. And each other. Try to be a rainbow in someone's cloud. [Maya Angelou]
Thought for the day: We cannot all do great things in life, but we can all do small things with great love. [Mother Teresa]
Wow, it's hard to believe April's kaput already, isn't it? I thoroughly enjoyed my month-long break from blogging, but I must confess, I didn't exactly accomplish any great things while I was away. It's a good thing the small things matter, too, huh? In addition to the pain-in-the-butt spring cleaning stuff, I did lots of reading, enjoyed a fantabulous visit from a long-time friend, and finished off the month with a visit to our pals in Tennessee.
On second thought, maybe the month was pretty doggone great. Alas, I didn't do any writing, which I've always done during my April breaks in the past, but I did some very productive research, so I suppose that counts for something. Hopefully, I'm ready to spring into writing action now.
As for doing all that nitty gritty housecleaning? The cruel irony of housework: people only notice it when you don't do it. [Danielle Raine] Ain't that the truth?
Here's a pic of my friend Caryl and me taken during her visit. Ever since we met in second grade, we were the best of friends for many many years... and then somehow, many more years slipped away while we kept in touch sporadically via email, Facebook, and telephone. This was the first time we saw each other face-to-face in more than forty years, and it was as though we'd never been apart. Smarticus was a real peach, too. He let us sit in the back seat (so we could yak more easily,) while he sat up front... driving Miss Daisies. Caryl and I vowed not to let that many years slip past us again. (Not that there's a snowball's chance in Hades that we could...) Friends are people who know the song in your heart and can sing it back to you when you forget the words. [author unknown]
Explosive Beginnings officially launched two days ago, and it's off to a pretty good start, so I have no complaints there. I'd better get my arse in gear with Clinging to Hope, though, because some of the people who won early copies through Goodreads are already bugging me about when Book Two is gonna be released. No rest for the weary. Time to ignore the pretty weather and give my muse a swift kick in the keister.
As you can probably tell, this is the monthly IWSG post, and as always, many thanks go to our fearless leader, Alex Cavanaugh, for founding this fine group, and to all the other nurturing guys and gals who've helped turn it into the thriving community it is today. To join this super supportive group of writers and to see links to other participating blogs, please go HERE
In light of how I spent my April (cough!cough!) writing time, this month's question is rather appropriate:
It's spring! Does this season inspire you to write more than others, or not?
Um... NOT! Unfortunately. Not this year, anyway. During the long dreary drab days of winter, it's much easier to snuggle down in the house with a pen and notebook than it is when the colors and scents (achoo!) of spring are calling to me from right outside the window. All I can say is it's a good thing I don't live at the beach. I'd never write anything. Ever.
How about you? Are you more productive this time of year, or does the beauty of the season hijack your attention? (And to those of you who still haven't escaped winter's clutches, I apologize. Take heart. Winter can't possibly last forever.)
Until next time, take care of yourselves. And each other.
Thought for the day: Be at war with your vices, at peace with your neighbors, and let every new year find you a better man. [Benjamin Franklin]
[image courtesy of Seniorark]
That ol' Ben Franklin was a smart dude. No doubt, we should all wrestle our vices into submission, and being friends with our neighbors is undoubtedly a good idea, but somehow, I don't think most men would appreciate their ladies looking for a better man each year... ☺
But neighbors... some neighbors make it really hard to get along, don't they? The loud inconsiderate ones who party into the wee hours of the morning, (Without inviting YOU!) the ones who blithely allow (Nay... encourage!) their dogs to evacuate on your lawn every day, the ones who borrow, borrow, borrow and never ever return. You know the kind. Robert Frost told us Good fences make good neighbors, but some people are so belligerent and difficult to get along with, they find a way to try our patience, fence or no fence.
And then... consider some of our world-wide neighbors. In far too many cases, inane disputes between countries have led to wars. And then... there's Canada.
Canadians are extraordinarily tolerant and polite. I can't imagine our neighbors to the north going to war for a frivolous reason. I mean... just look at how they protest:
Q. How do you get a Canadian to apologize? A. Step on his foot. Q. How many Canadians does it take to change a light bulb? A. None. They don't change light bulbs; they accept them just the way they are
So would it surprise you to know that Canada and Denmark have been at odds for decades?
[image courtesy of Toubletap/Wikipedia]
What's their bone of contention, you ask?
Um, a rock.
Yeah, a rock... a BIG rock, but pretty much a rock, nonetheless.
Its name is Hans Island, and it's an uninhabited rock about half a mile in diameter and completely devoid of vegetation. It lies in the middle of Nares Strait, which separates some Canadian islands from Greenland, which, of course, belongs to Denmark.
The problem is, that strait is approximately twenty miles wide at its widest, and according to international law, any country can claim any territories within twelve miles of their shores. So... both Canada and Denmark claim this frigid hunk of Arctic rock as their own.
[wikimedia]
In 1973, the two countries signed a treaty to create a boundary between their territories, but the folks who drew the imaginary line down the middle of the strait kinda chickened out when they encountered the rock right in the center. They hopped over it without assigning ownership to either country.
So... both countries claim it. How do these two countries fight their battle over this rocky island?
With great spirits and a touch of humor.
[Image courtesy of Royal Danish Navy, 2002]
From time to time, the navies from each of these countries pay a visit to this barren chunk of rock.
When the Danes visit, they hoist their flag and erect a sign saying, Welcome to this Danish island.
And... they bury a fine bottle of Danish schnapps.
[Image courtesy of NY Times/Wikimedia]
And when the Canadians visit, they remove the Danish flag and hoist a Canadian one. They also exchange the sign for one that reads, Welcome to Canada... and they dig up the schnapps and replace it with a nice bottle of Canadian Club whiskey.
It's rather nice to hear about a dispute being handled with firewater instead of firepower, isn't it? These guys exchange shots... but it's the kind that warm a man's heart on a frigid Arctic day.
There's an old Danish proverb that says, No one is rich enough to do without a neighbor. I'd say these two countries take this to heart. These fellow NATO members continue to be good neighbors, in spite of a silly little dispute over a rock. Somehow, if oil should suddenly be found at this location, I have a feeling these countries will work that out amicably, too. After all, that's what friends do.
Until next time, take care of yourselves. And each other.
