To Die For A Cause You Believe In

Patrick Pearse was an Irish teacher, writer and poet. He was one of the leaders of the Easter Rising, also known as the Easter Rebellion which occured 108 years ago this week. (April 24-29, 1916) Pearse and fourteen others who took part in the attempt to establish Ireland's independence were arrested, court-martialed and executed in the weeks following.

This is the poem Pearse wrote the night before his execution at Kilmainham Gaol, Dublin, May 3, 1916.

The Wayfarer By Patrick Pearse

The beauty of the world hath made me sad,
This beauty that will pass;
Sometimes my heart hath shaken with great joy
To see a leaping squirrel in a tree,
Or a red lady-bird upon a stalk,
Or little rabbits in a field at evening,
Lit by a slanting sun,
Or some green hill where shadows drifted by
Some quiet hill where mountainy man hath sown
And soon would reap; near to the gate of Heaven;
Or children with bare feet upon the sands
Of some ebbed sea, or playing on the streets
Of little towns in Connacht,
Things young and happy.
And then my heart hath told me:
These will pass,
Will pass and change, will die and be no more,
Things bright and green, things young and happy;
And I have gone upon my way
Sorrowful.

And this is the courtyard at Kilmainham where the executions took place. I took this photo when I went there during my trip to Ireland in 1994. It was one of my must see destinations. ❤

Admiring A Favorite Poet on His 85th Birthday

 So This Is Nebraska By Ted Kooser

The gravel road rides with a slow gallop

over the fields, the telephone lines

streaming behind, its billow of dust

full of the sparks of redwing blackbirds.

On either side, those dear old ladies,

the loosening barns, their little windows

dulled by cataracts of hay and cobwebs

hide broken tractors under their skirts.

So this is Nebraska. A Sunday

afternoon; July. Driving along

with your hand out squeezing the air,

a meadowlark waiting on every post.

Behind a shelterbelt of cedars,

top-deep in hollyhocks, pollen and bees,

a pickup kicks its fenders off

and settles back to read the clouds.

You feel like that; you feel like letting

your tires go flat, like letting the mice

build a nest in your muffler, like being

no more than a truck in the weeds,

clucking with chickens or sticky with honey

or holding a skinny old man in your lap

while he watches the road, waiting

for someone to wave to. You feel like

waving. You feel like stopping the car

and dancing around on the road. You wave

instead and leave your hand out gliding

larklike over the wheat, over the houses.

April, A Night, A Full Moon And ...

 April's Full Pink Moon rising....

April By Mary Oliver

I wanted to speak at length about 

The happiness of my body and the

Delight of my mind for it was

April, a night, a full moon and ...

But something in myself for maybe

From somewhere other said: not too

Many words, please, in the muddy shallows the

Frogs are singing.

March 2024 Reading List

 A more eclectic mix - eight books read in March.

Canary Girls by Jennifer Chiaverini was a very interesting novel based on facts about the women who worked in the arms factories during WWI.

Sterling House by Alix E. Harrow is the second book I've read by this author - and it is just as intriguing as the first one. (The Ten Thousand Doors of January.)

The Cutting Edge by Jeffery Deaver continues my reading through his Lincoln Rhyme series.

Mrs. Lincoln's Rival is also by Jennifer Chiaverini and also a novel based on fact. The protaganist is Kate Chase Sprague a young woman who served as her father's hostess while he was senator and then cabinet member in Washington D.C. There was a mutual dislike and rivalry between her and Mary Todd Lincoln. This was a very interesting look into those times and of a woman I had never before heard about.

The Hunter by Tana French is the second of her books about Cal Hooper, a retired Chicago police detective who moves to Ireland. In both books he becomes involved in solving some murders near the small village of Ardnakelty. I love these books and their setting. Tana French is one of my favorite authors as well as my 'adopted' author for Gibson Memorial Library.

Judgement Prey is John Sandford's latest novel featuring both Lucas Davenport and Virgil Flowers who have teamed up to solve the triple murders of a man and his two sons. His next book will be released in 10 days, but I will probably have to wait awhile before I get to read it because his books are so popular. But that's okay - they are always good reads and ones I look forward to.

The Island House by Nancy Thayer is another of her novels set on Nantucket. I have decided I need to mix a little light reading in with the usual whodunnits I read. 

North Woods by Daniel Mason is the first book I've read of his and I hope to read more. (My library does have one more which I will be reading.) North Woods relates the story of one piece of land over hundreds of years. What I especially liked about it was not so much the people but the flora and fauna and the changes to both over those years. Really an enchanting achievement in story telling and another month of good reading.

How Do You Pronounce My Name?

 My daughter-in-law, Shalea, posted this on FB yesterday and tagged two of her children, Ki and Deise.

I was very aware that Deise had always had trouble with people mispronouncing her name, but I hadn't realized that Ki had too. The name is generally spelled Kai, which, from its Hawaiian roots, means 'the sea'. But how else would you pronounce Ki except 'Kye'? Unless it is Key? I should ask Shalea or Ki in what ways it has been mispronounced.

Before he was born, his parents had already decided boy or girl the baby would be named in honor of its two grandmothers' middle names, Kathryn and Irene. Their second child was a girl and she does bear that name while Ki's was shortened to the two first initials. I have seen one other instance of the name spelled the same as his - in a story about a man in Nebraska - surprisingly with the same last name.

(Ki playing in grandma's rain barrel.)

Ahh, but Deise's name. I can totally understand why people have trouble pronouncing it - and it is all my fault. 

Before she was born, I had realized my life long dream of going to Ireland. She was born a few weeks after I returned from there and on my birthday! Her parents decided to give her an Irish name because of the connection and asked me for ideas - what Irish girls' names I liked. 

I named a few, but also mentioned the name of an area I had seen in southeast Ireland in County Waterford. That area was Deise - pronounced Day-sha. And that is how she got her name. (Deise and me eating cake and celebrating our joint birthday.)

And that would be that except that they chose to use the Irish spelling instead of the English pronounciation. They also spelled her middle name Mei instead of May. I don't know if she has ever been tempted to change the spelling, even though it has given her trouble her whole life, but I don't think so.

Other ways of spelling Deise are: Dacia - which is also derived from a place name - formerly a Roman province where Romania is now. The aforementioned Daysha - 'serene' or 'the period of light between dawn and nightfall'.  Daisha - 'the one who is alive'. 

County Waterford is colloquially known as "The Deise", settled sometime between the 4th and 8th centuries by an Irish tribe called the Deisi. People from the area chant the popular term "Up the Deise" in support of their local hurling team.

In addition to my granddaughter's name, when I think of the area I also think of the beautiful crystal made there.

I've could never afford a piece of Waterford cyrstal but I've always admired it.

You might recognize it as being the trophy for winning a golf game. Or as the maker of the ball that drops on New Year's Eve in Times Square. 

I have never had trouble with anyone mispronouncing my name, Ramona, but I have had it misspelled many times: Ramonia, Romona, Romana..... 

International Women's Day

 

 

Bud wished me a Happy International Women's Day this morning. I asked him: "Why? Because I've been to Ireland?" His reply was "Yes." to which I replied: "I don't think that necessarily makes me an international woman." Then he asked, "How many women from Iowa do you think have been to Ireland?" I said, probably more than you think with so many Iowan's claiming Irish heritage.

Naturally that sent me to Google to ask what percentage of Iowan's have Irish roots. The answer: 13%. So, with Iowa's population around three million, that would be 450,000. And if half those are women, that would be around 225,000 women, perhaps, celebrating their Irish heritage on International Women's Day. But I have no way of knowing how many of those have visited Ireland. Ten percent? One percent? And does visiting a foreign country once make someone an international woman?

International Women's Day (IWD) describes it as: "a global day celebrating the social, economic, cultural and political achievements of women". "The day also marks a call to action for accelerating gender parity." And while I have seen many strides toward equalizing things between men and women, I don't think it will ever truly happen. Still, I consider myself fortunate to have lived in the time and place I have.

By the way, German has the predominant percentage of ancestry in Iowa with 35%. I can trace more of my ancestors to German roots than Irish, but I think of myself as more Irish because of my Irish surname and because I have always 'felt' more Irish. 

Whatever and however you celebrate the day - Happy International Women's Day. 💖🌎

Two Years Ago Today

Two years ago today we were under risk for severe weather with a 30% chance for damaging winds and a 10% risk for tornadoes. At noon the first tornado watch was issued for southern Iowa, northern Missouri, although a major tornado outbreak was not expected. As the afternoon progressed, multiple supercell thunderstorms developed with one in southwest Iowa becoming dominant. It passed north and west of us, but we had the t.v. on for alerts.

A little after 4p.m. a t.v. reporter/storm follower on the southwest side of Winterset posted this live shot of a huge tornado heading toward the town. My son and daughter-in-law lived on that side of Winterset. My first thought was to call and make sure they were going to the basement. Then I realized, knowing my son, he was standing in their yard watching it. (He was.)

Strangely enough, I wasn't too concerned about them. I knew that they knew enough to take cover in time. The EF4 tornado struck around 4:26 p.m. about a mile south of their home. There were multiple deaths and injuries along with major damage. 

One of the reasons I wasn't worried was because Preston was a seasoned storm watcher. When we lived near Grimes, we all watched a tornado pass north of us on the way toward Johnston.

The year before this photo of a nine-year-old Preston was taken, when we lived on Tuck Corner, we watched a tornado south of us moving east after touching down in Gravity and before destroying almost everything except the house on the farm of one of my cousin's west of Lenox. Fortunately, they were not hurt.

But I do remember Preston being upset because after watching the tornado from our yard, I sent him and his sister to the basement as I continued watching. "Why do we have to go to the basement?" was his complaint which had merit since any danger to us was already past.

He got his chance to be the storm spotter in 1984 when we were all at my mother's house. We were inside fixing supper and he was out in the front yard watching the weather. He came tearing into the house shouting that a tornado was coming! "Yeah, sure", I said. About then the wind came up, the trees began thrashing around and we all looked out to watch a funnel cloud a mile west, moving northeast. Later we would learn it had destroyed a home one and a half miles west of Mom's, leaving nothing but the basement where a mother and her two children had fortunately sheltered and survived with minor injuries, before moving along to the south side of Corning and causing some damage.

In one of those "it's a small world coincidences, we learned that Preston's future father-in-law was part of the crew sent to repair the large transmission lines west of mom's that the tornado took down that day.

Spring tornadoes are not uncommon. March 22, 2011, I stood on our deck and watched and photographed this tornado west of our current home in Creston.

A year later, April 14, 2012, a tornado struck the northwest corner of Creston, causing major damage to the hospital and destroying the AEA building. 

Severe weather awareness week is not far off - March 25-29. Once again we will be reminded what else spring can bring besides tulips, daffodils and violets. Hopefully, there will be no major tornado outbreaks.