September '25 Books

 Eight books read this month.

The Unraveling of Julia is by Lisa Scottoline one of my favorite authors. (Think of her Rizzoli and Isles series.) This novel is about a young widow from America who inherits a Tuscan villa and vineyard in Italy. It is a psychological thriller with many twists.

The Fate Of The Day: The War for America, Fort Ticonderoga to Charleston, 1777 to 1780 by Rick Atkinson is volume two of The Revolution Trilogy. I love history. I enjoy reading about the American Revolution and this book covered many battles I had never heard of. Interesting, but I could not make myself read the entire book. The author described each battle in extreme detail. I did not need all the minutiae to get the idea. I finally gave up.

The Perfect Marriage and Home Is Where The Bodies Are by Jeneva Rose are the other two books the library has by this author. I read the other one in April. 

Seeing Red and Tailspin are two more of the Sandra Brown books I've been reading my way through. 

The Signature of All Things by Elizabeth Gilbert is my favorite read of the month. Spanning much of the 18th and 19th centuries, the novel follows the fortunes of the Whittakers - a family of botanical explorers. The daughter, Alma, becomes a brilliant and insatiable botanist driven by an unquenchable sense of wonder. I've already put Gilbert's newest book on my list to read.

The Burning by Linda Castillo is the first book of her's that I've read. I see that the library has a number of her books. I may or may not read any more of them.

A Reunion of Sorts

Some of my fondest memories are of the family reunions of my youth.  Great-grandpa and grandma Ridnour had three children who lived to adulthood. (Their eldest, Freddie, died at age six.) Next in line was my grandfather Joseph, then Florence and lastly, Lottie. 

My Grandpa Joe and Grandpa Delphia Ridnour had three daughters and sixteen grandchildren - my first cousins. Great Aunt Florence and Great Uncle Tom Haley had nine children and 26 grandchildren. Great Aunt Lottie and Great Uncle Guy Inman had five children and 10 grandchildren - 36 second cousins for me to know and grow up with (on that side of my family). And when we all got together for a Ridnour Family Reunion it was a blast, i.e. wild fun.

Families took turns hosting the annual reunions. The farthest I remember going was to Parnell, MO to Fern and Edwin Mitchell's home. 

In 1957 my family hosted the reunion on our farm south of Corning.

Pictures of each family grouping were taken that day. This one is of my Mom's older sister Evelyn and her family.

Left to right: Glen, Janet, Uncle Howard, Lila, Glenna, Larry, Mary Lou and Aunt Evelyn. 

As first cousins we spent a lot of time together.

Pictured here at the same 1957 reunion is the family of Mom's first cousin Esther and her husband Lloyd and their children Shirley, Jenice, Russ and Ron. (The little girl in front was photobombing before that was a term known to photographers.)

Travis's were our neighbors - lived the closest to us and went to the same church we did. Mom was probably closest to Esther as any of her girl cousins.

As we grew up, married, moved away, had families of our own and the elders were no longer around, we didn't see our first cousins as often as we once did and saw our second cousins hardly at all - usually only at a funeral. But I never forgot the good times we had together.

I've been sorting through pictures and trying to return them to family members. Some I've scanned and sent via e-mail or FB messenger. In cases where there were many photos I've taken them to cousins nearby or invited them to pick them up.

Yesterday afternoon one of my 2nd cousins did just that.

I hadn't seen Julie in ages, probably not since her mother died in 2012 and I attended the visitation.

So it was a real delight for me to see her again and spend time catching up with one another. 

There is a French word for how I felt: Retrouvailles - the happiness of meeting someone very dear to you after a long time.

I wish that my children, and grandchildren, could experience the pleasure of being close to their cousins like I was - and some of them are. Maybe they will look back years from now with the same nostalgic feelings I have.

Happy 80th Sis

 

Betty, do you remember how Grandpa Joe used to call you and me and all his other six granddaughters Sis? 

I always thought it was a term of endearment but maybe he just couldn't remember all our names. 

I wish you could be celebrating your 80th birthday with a big family gathering as I did mine.

Instead you only lived another ten years after your high school senior picture was taken.

The Autumnal Equinox occured on the 22nd this year though often it fell on your birthday. Blue was your favorite color because your birthstone was a blue sapphire.

I wish I could remember what we were dressed up for when this photo was taken. I bet you would remember. It must have been the last one taken of the two of us - at least it is the last photo I have of us together.

I will never forget the details surrounding your death. Mom's call telling me you had a cerebral hemmorhage and that you were in the hospital in Omaha. Being there with other family members, being so scared. Taking turns every hour when we were only allowed five minutes in your room. Having to go back to work then hearing that you were getting better, making the trip back to Omaha only to be told when I got there that you had died. Three weeks after your birthday. Two days after your daughter's 5th birthday.

I haven't talked to Kristi in quite awhile. Last I knew your granddaughter Jesse was going to school to become a lawyer. So when I went to her FB page this morning a saw that she now lives in Louisiana I was surprised.

But they were back for Balloon Days this past weekend because I saw this photo of your granddaughter Jesse and great-grandson Boston.

Here's another of him celebrating his 4th birthday which was the 21st, just two days before your's.

I'll always wonder what your life - our lives - would have been like if you had gotten another fifty-two or more years.

Would we still be jealous of one another? Sibling rivalries or best friends? 

I'd like to think we would be enjoying being in one another's lives - living in the same town.

And bragging about our great-grands.  😊

Looking for Autumn

The Autumnal Equinox occured an hour ago. It is officially Fall even if it doesn't feel like it. 

Where are the all the lovely yellows, oranges, golds, crimsons and rusts of autumn? They're not here yet, but it won't be long and I'm ready. Fall is my season.

I did spend a little time this morning driving around looking for any sign of color. About the only I found were the buffs of bean and corn fields and the whites of fall grasses.

The dredging continues at Lake McKinley. Much progress has been made but they are still only about half done.

You can see the 'bluff' in the background. That is how deep the lake is being lowered. I guess I did find some color after all - in the abundant, dying, weeds.  

"Seasons of mists and mellow fruitfulness,
Close bosom-friend of the maturing sun;
Conspiring with him how to load and bless
With fruit the vines that round the thatch-eves run;
To bend with apples the moss’d cottage-trees,
And fill all fruit with ripeness to the core;
To swell the gourd, and plump the hazel shells
With a sweet kernel; to set budding more,
And still more, later flowers for the bees,
Until they think warm days will never cease,
For Summer has o’er-brimm’d their clammy cells."
-   John Keats - To Autumn

A Tea Pet for National Chai Day

If not for my e-pal Leslie, I would not have known about tea pets. From the website of TEASENZ: "A tea pet is a traditional craft from China which is usually made from yixing clay (also known as zisha) and ceramic. It's a tea lover's practice in China to nourish the tea pets by rinsing them with tea liquor."

They advise regularly pouring tea over your pet and in time your tea pet will absorb the scent of the tea that you drink. If I do as they suggest, mine will smell like bergamot from my favorite tea - Ahmad Earl Grey. Below is a photo from their website of what I consider the cutest of the tea pets.

I also like the Toad and the Faceless Buddha tea pets.

And I know my daughter Kari would absolutely love this one - the Octopus.

Another thing she loves is Chai Tea which she may be drinking on this National Chai Day.

And just as I would not have known about tea pets, I most likely would have missed National Chai day without Leslie's gift of this tea pet and tea bags.

I don't drink much chai tea but I always have it on hand. If I feel a cold coming on it is my remedy for warding off the illness before it takes hold. 

Today I'm drinking this English Tea Shop chai from the tea bowl I got at the Mad Potter Studio in Weston, MO.

The National Chai Day Calendar recommended adding milk and sugar to the tea.

I tried it both ways and much prefer it plain.  The additions diluted the chai flavor too much. 

Happy National Chai Day and thank you Leslie for my cute, as yet unnamed, piggies. 

A Golden Hour

 

I recently saw this painting by Florence Fuller online and immediately was drawn to the romance of it - a couple strolling together during evening's golden hour. A Golden Hour is the name of the painting done by Fuller in 1905. The location was in the Darling Ranges of Western Australia. Fuller was born in South Africa in 1867 and migrated with her family as a child to Melbourne Australia.

A golden hour reminded me of when I used to refer to something perfect happening as one of my golden moments. It could be a feeling of accomplishment, making a real connection with someone, having fun with my children, enjoying a glass of wine with a best friend, or knowing something I had done had helped someone else. I've been reading one of my journals from the early 80's looking for some golden moments I had written about then. I did find a quote from my therapist as we concluded my last session. He reminded me to "Enjoy the moment." After that I wrote "And my Golden Moments."

Later....I still haven't found any golden moments in my old journals. If I do I'll add them later.

New Year, New Millennium?

Remember December 31, 1999 and the worry about all the things that might not work after midnight because the computers didn't recognize the year 2000? What a relief when the lights were still on and we ushered in a new millennium on January 1st.

Wait a minute - it was a new year but still part of the last century. The new, third, millennium did not begin until January 1, 200l - the year of our 40th High School Class Reunion. To my knowledge there had never been a designated planning committee for a class reunion. Often it was the same few who took care of location and time and date notifications. Eventually those few, I assume, got tired of doing all the work and just quit doing it. I was living in West Des Moines at the time of our 30th and can't remember if I went to that one or not. By the time of our 35th I had moved back home. Ellen, my best friend from high school, my cousin Harrison (known by his middle initial, J) and I got together and did all the planning for it.

Then the year for our 40th rolled around - the actual first year of the new millennium - 200l and the same thing that happened with those lights in 2000 happened with our class reunion. Nothing. No one did anything about a class reunion. (As I recall the same thing happened to our 20th reunion - there wasn't one. We celebrated a 21st class reunion the following year.)

So in 2002 I decided to plan a 41st Class Reunion on my own. Some questioned why we would have a class reunion in the traditionally rival town of Villisca but I had heard good things about a new venue there. The original bank building at 400 S. Third Avenue had been turned into a space for catered special events known as The Bank.

Upstairs was a room for a social hour which included  tables and chairs and a bar.

This photo was one I took of some of the classmates that night.

Downstairs was the dining area with a small stage to one side.

The evening turned out to be a huge success. I received many compliments and no longer felt like an awkward country bumpkin as I had in high school.

Another picture from that evening. This one in front of that small platform I mentioned. It was there I nervously stood and read the following invitation - one that had resonated with me then and somewhat still does.

The Invitation

It doesn't interest me what you do for a living. I want to know what you ache for, and if you dare to dream of meeting your heart's longing.

It doesn't interest me how old you are. I want to know if you will risk looking like a fool for love, for your dream, for the adventure of being alive.

It doesn't interest me what planets are squaring your moon. I want to know if you have touched the center of your own sorrow, if you have been opened by life's betrayals or have become shriveled and closed from fear of further pain! I want to know if you can sit with pain, mine or your own, without moving to hide it or fade it, or fix it.

I want to know if you can be with joy, mine or your own, if you can dance with wildness and let the ecstasy fill you to the tips of your fingers and toes without cautioning us to be careful, to be realistic, to remember the limitations of being human.

It doesn't interest me if the story you are telling me is true. I want to know if you can disappoint another to be true to yourself; if you can bear the accusation of betrayal and not betray your own soul; if you can be faithless and therefore trustworthy.

I want to know if you can see beauty even when it's not pretty, every day, and if you can source your own life from its presence.

I want to know if you can live with failure, yours and mine, and still stand on the edge of the lake and shout to the silver of the full moon, "Yes!"

It doesn't interest me to know where you live or how much money you have. I want to know if you can get up, after the night of grief and despair, weary and bruised to the bone, and do what needs to be done to feed the children.

It doesn't interest me who you know or how you came to be here. I want to know if you will stand in the center of the fire with me and not shrink back.

It doesn't interest me where or what or with whom you have studied. I want to know what sustains you, from the inside, when all else falls away.

I want to know if you can be alone with yourself and if you truly like the company you keep in the empty moments.

The Invitation was written by Oriah Mountain Dreamer - the name she went by at that time. (1999)

As I read aloud her prose, I met the looks of various classmates. I don't know what they were really thinking but they were attentive.

Rereading this as I typed it out, it doesn't impress me as much as it did twenty three years ago, but some of the lines still resonate and cause me to consider my responses.

September 2011 we did manage to have our 50th High School Class Reunion in the right year. It was well attended and great to see all the ones who came. It was the last class reunion I attended.