January Book List

Starting the New Year off right - ten books read this month.

The Historian by Elizabeth Kostova is one of my daughter's favorite books - one I picked up at a book sale. It is a tale of Dracula over several centuries and many countries. I enjoyed the historical aspects of the book.

City of Lies by Victoria Thompson is the first in the new 'Counterfiet Lady Novels' by the 'Gaslight Mysteries' author. Part of the book is based on the 1917 suffragists' daily demonstrations in front of the White House and their subsequent arrests. I think I am going to like this new series.

Death Zones and Darling Spies by Beverly Deepe Keever is the memoir of a woman journalist who covered the war in Vietnam from 1961 to 1968. 

Map of the Heart by Susan Wiggs was a thoroughly enjoyable read because of the multi-generational story going back to WWII and the French Resistance - also because photography played a huge part of the story.

Love and Other Consolation Prizes by Jamie Ford is based on the true story of a young Chinese-American orphan who was raffled off at the 1909 Seattle World's Fair, the Alaska-Yukon-Pacific Exposition. It is set during the 1962 Seattle World's Fair and related in segments from both time periods.

The It Girls by Karen Harper is a gossipy book about two sisters growing up in the 1870's on Jersey in the Channel Islands. Lots of name-dropping, globe-trotting, glitz and glamour, but very little plot and real substance - not my kind of book.

Burning Bright by Tracy Chevalier is a look at London in 1792-93 centered around the poet William Blake and his time living in Lambeth. This felt like a very realistic rendering of that time period. ("Tyger, tyger, burning bright.") 

Angels and Insects by A. S. Byatt is another book sale find. It is more than a little strange. I was surprised to find that it was made into a movie in 1995.

The Color of Lightning by Paulette Jiles is set in North Texas toward the end of the Civil War and was inspired by the true stories of the black free people who settled there looking for a new life. The book is a realistic look at the struggles they faced including raids and kidnappings by the Comanches and Kiowas.

Caroline, Little House Revisited by Sarah Miller tells the story of the Ingalls family in Kansas from Ma's point of view. The book was written with the approval of the Little House Heritage Trust.

Eclipse of Super Blue Blood Moon

There was a good chance that clouds would prevent my viewing of the second full moon in January - a Blue Moon. Not just a blue moon, but a Super Blue Blood Moon. AND a total eclipse of same.

I was up a little after 5:00 a.m., happy to have a clear view of the full moon. This first picture was at 5:38 a.m CST. The Southwest corner of Iowa was clear - at least for awhile.

5:54 a.m. The eclipse has begun.

6:05 a.m.

6:16 a.m.

6:24 a.m.

6:40 a.m. At this point, I had to switch to night view on my camera. This is as close as the lens would telescope on that setting.

6:49 a.m.

7:51 a.m. Almost covered.

7:53 a.m. CST Total eclipse, just in time before the moon set in the West.

8:04 a.m. A view to the East as the clouds thickened. I got to see, and record, the second full moon of January 2018 -  a super, blue, blood moon and its eclipse!

Fifty Years Ago

Fifty years ago today, in a small Southeast Asian country, something called the Tet Offensive was launched by North Vietnamese forces.
It hardly registered on my radar. I was living in Cedar Rapids, looking forward to my divorce becoming final and planning a trip to the Virgin Islands.
One's perspective changes after you marry a Vietnam War Veteran.

As we watched CBS Sunday Morning's remembrance of the Tet Offensive, focusing on the Battle for Hue and featuring John Olson's phenomenal photography, I could only wonder about Bud's emotions, knowing how the piece was affecting me.

It would be another three months before he was sent to Vietnam, stationed near Hue.
A year after that, he would return safely home, but without the welcome accorded the vets of previous wars.

One of his classmates wasn't as fortunate. Ron Bunting had only been 'in country' a short time before he was killed February 10 in Quang Ngai Province.



I can watch memorial pieces about the war and read books about it, but I can never imagine what all the young men and women went through there. I know the experience contributed to the man he became because Bud has said he "wouldn't have missed it for the world". That alone tells me a something.

He's Finally Here

A week past his due date, but my seventh great-grandson finally made his appearance early this morning.

When he passed his due date of January 23, I hoped that he would be born on the 25th, my Mom's birth date. I wonder what she would have thought of his name? Maverick Steven.

His last name begins with a K, so his initials spell MaSK; somehow appropriate for a little Maverick.

Welcome to the world, little one. Looking forward to meeting you in person.

Her Old Green Coat

I remember your old green coat. The green was darker than leaf, but lighter than hunter.
How many winters had you worn it? You were repairing the lining yet again. In some places there was little enough left to sew back together.
You were tired of trying to mend it and so done with that color. "Why don't you just buy a new coat, Mom?" I asked.

"Because you kids need new winter coats more than I do.", her reply.




Funny, I remember when she finally got a new coat, I recall how she saved the buttons off the old one. But even the way she saved every scrap of cloth for some form of re-use, I don't remember ever seeing anything of that green again.
I don't even remember what color her new winter coat was. But I sure remember that old green coat.

Someone Wrote A Poem For Me

Reading some poems by Archibald MacLeish (1892-1982), I discovered he had apparently written one for me.

The Night Dream

To R. L.

NEITHER her voice, her name,
Eyes, quietness neither,
That moved through the light, that came
Cold stalk in her teeth
Bitten of some blue flower
Knew I before nor saw.
This was a dream. Ah,
This was a dream. There was sun
Laid on the cloths of a table
We drank together. Her mouth
Was a lion's mouth out of jade
Cold with a fable of water.
Faces I could not see
Watched me with gentleness. Grace
Folded my body with wings.
I cannot love you she said.
My head she laid on her breast.
As stillness with ringing of bees
I was filled with a singing of praise.
Knowledge filled me and peace.
We were silent and not ashamed.
Ah we were glad that day.
They asked me but it was one
Dead they meant and not I.
She was beside me she said.
We rode in a desert place.
We were always happy. Her sleeves
Jangled with earrings of gold.
They told me the wind from the south
Was the cold wind to be feared.
We were galloping under the leaves
This was a dream, Ah
This was a dream.

And her mouth
Was not your mouth nor her eyes,
But the rivers were four and I knew
As a secret between us, the way
Hands touch, it was you.

The Gray Snow People

Last month in a book I was reading was a passage about the Ioway Indians - "The gray snow people who spoke French". It piqued my interest. Was it factual or just something made up for the novel? I made a note to look it up someday.
When I was in sixth grade in our one-room country school, I studied Iowa History (as did all sixth graders in Iowa at that time). My favorite part was learning about the Indians that once roamed "the land between rivers" or "beautiful land" - two of the reported Indian meanings for the name of our state. But I don't remember ever hearing or learning the Ioway Indians referred to as The Gray Snow People.

I do have a memory of seeing this picture of White Cloud, an Ioway chieftan painted by George Catlin in 1845. It must have been in my history book or perhaps a copy was in the State Historical Building in Des Moines, which we visited as school children, and where my favorite area was where all the Indian artifacts were displayed.

As white settlers began moving into Iowa, the Native people were pushed west into Nebraska, eventually being moved to the Indian Territory of Oklahoma. The Iowa Nation now consists of two tribes, one in Perkins, Oklahoma and one in Whitecloud, Kansas.

From the official website of the Iowa Tribe of Oklahoma: "In the Iowa language, we call ourselves Baxoje (Bah Kho-je), meaning "People of the Grey Snow".
Well, that confirms it. It wasn't something made up for a novel. Interesting. But why do they call themselves that?
Again, from the official website: "The story of our name has been handed down from generation to generation. When men had to leave our village, upon their return, they looked down from a rise and they saw that our village had been burned. It appeared as though the village was covered with grey snow, even though the winter season was not upon us. For you see, the ashes had settled over the village site and all that was visible to the warriors were the burned remnants of what used to be our homes."

I love that a brief mention in a book led me to learn something I did not know about my beautiful native land - once upon a time, the home of The Grey Snow People.

Another Grandchild Visits

Number three grandson (in order of birth) called yesterday morning to see if we were going to be here. He was on his way from Missouri to his parents' home in Winterset and wanted to stop and see us.

Ki is Daddy to these two great-grandsons, Greyson, left and Ayden, right. I was hoping they might be with him, as they are always fun to be around, but Ki was on his way to get them for the weekend, not on the way back. Maybe next time.

After lunch, Ki and I came in here to check something on the computer. I thought I had already blogged about how much I think he looks like one of the HGTV/DIY stars of Kitchen Cousins. I hadn't; must have posted it on Facebook instead.









Anthony Carrino from Kitchen Cousins on the left, Ki, right.
Do you see the resemblance?


Here are a couple more views:

I can't decide if it is the eyes, the smile, the hair line, or what, but I've always seen a likeness between the two.

And speaking of likenesses, there is no doubt Ayden is Ki's son.

Ki, age one on the left and Ayden, a little older, on the right.

Visits from the grands are always welcome. It is nice to see them and catch up on their lives. Nice to see the great-grands, too. They grow and change so quickly.

On Her Birthday

This little cutie was born ninety-nine years ago today. My mom was the second of three daughters. In my mind, she was the prettiest and nicest of the girls and absolutely the best mother in the world.

Like her, I was the second born, except my older sibling was a brother. Unfortunately, I wasn't as cute as she had been.

"No one worries about you like your mother, and when she is gone, your world seems unsafe; things that happen, unwieldly. You cannot turn to her anymore, and it changes your life forever. There is no one on earth who knew you from the day you were born; who knew why you cried, or when you'd had enough food; who knew exactly what to say when you were hurting; and who encouraged you to grow a good heart. When that layer goes, whatever of your childhood goes with her. Memories are very different and cannot soothe you the same way her touch did."

Happy Birthday, Mom. I love you.

(Quote is from Adriana Trigiani's book, Big Stone Gap.)

Your Birth Month Color and Meaning

I admit it. I'm a sucker for all those little quizes and other come-ons that are supposed to tell you something about yourself. Think astrology signs in the 70's. They would even tell you who your perfect mate was based upon the sign he/she was born under.

The above picture and heading, "Each Birth Month Has a Different Color and Meaning - See What Yours Is!", caught my attention and click. My birthday is in November so I had to click numerous times to find my color.

I wasn't surprised that it was a red; many articles relating to Scorpio say red is this sign's color. What did surprise me was that I like this particular rendition of red. It's not too loud. It has been gentled down. It is a color I would choose.
November's color characteristics are: "Passionate, motivating, intense." When to incorporate it: "When you need help through a transition, to remove emotional blocks, or need a sexual uplift."
Claret Red's Meaning: "Intense and passionate, this color inspires depth, strength, and love."

Oh, look, I found a color for Bud. It say's right there, Bud Green. Ha, ha. Bud's color is the same as mine, though Bud Green is the color for my daughter's birth month.

For pure color choice, the color I like best, it would be the one for January, Caramel. Its characteristics are: "Logical, sure-footed, practical, down-to-earth." January is my Mom's birth month. (Her 99th birthday would have been tomorrow.) I think these Caramel Characteristics actually fit the woman she was. Maybe there is something to this birth month color and meaning.

If you are interested in checking out your color, you can find it here.

Gifts From The Street

Remember Anne Morrow Lindbergh's Gift From The Sea? Well, I receive gifts from the street.

Except in the very worst weather conditions, Hubby Dearest walks/jogs outside five times a week. Every once in awhile he brings back a little gift for me. Above are some examples.

I don't walk outside. I've never been able to return the favor of a found gift. Until yesterday.

I was putting the groceries into the car when I noticed what I thought was a kid's toy soldier on the ground. At first I wasn't going to pick it up. When I did, I discovered it was a little NFL player. So I brought it home for Bud.

The playoff games Sunday didn't exactly go as I wished.

I'm hoping this is a good omen.

Have A Care

Be careful. Take care. Have a care. Take care of.
I've been thinking about how my mother always cautioned us to be careful or to take care of, or the older term have a care.

We were taught to take care of our belongings because there wasn't the means to replace anything we ruined. Clothes could be mended or patched, but if you didn't want to wear patched jeans, be careful not to tear them in the first place.
If you broke or lost one of your toys, too bad. You would wait until your birthday or Christmas for anything to replace it.

It wasn't just things she warned us to be careful of, she also warned us to take care of ourselves. Not to do things that would endanger us or cause bodily harm.

Not that I always paid attention to that, as evidenced by this photo of me almost at the top of that tall evergreen tree. But overall, Mom imbued in me the lasting habit of being careful. Taking care of. Having a care. And when I am consciously doing so, it gives me the loving sense of my mother, very much a part of me.

The Fog Comes

Fog

"The fog comes
on little cat feet.

It sits looking
over harbor and city
on silent haunches
and then moves on."
   (Carl Sandburg)

The fog has thickened as we wait to see what winter storm Jaxon brings to our part of the Midwest.

Carl Sandburg's poem about fog is one of the earliest I remember discussing. It was read by my grade school teacher when I was ten or eleven and then we talked about how the writer had compared the fog to a cat.
I think I already loved poetry, but talking about what the poem meant and the images it prompted was something new. I've never forgotten the lesson, nor the poem.

A Strange Invention

One of the books I read this week was a contemporary/historical romance novel in that it covered several generations. I liked the historical romance parts better than the present day romance, but what I liked best was what linked the story lines - photography. It gave me insight into what I like about taking pictures, as well as made me wish I had learned more about photography when I was younger - and taken it seriously.

There were many quotes about photography throughout the book. I have chosen some photographs to go with those quotes.

"What makes photography a strange invention is that its primary raw materials are light and time." (John Berger, English Art Critic)

"A photograph is a secret about a secret. The more it tells you the less you know." (Diane Arbus, American Photographer)

"In photography there is a reality so subtle that it becomes more real than reality." (Alfred Stieglitz, American Photographer)

"Photography takes an instant out of time, altering life by holding it still." (Dorthea Lange, American Photographer)

"I suddenly understand that photography can fix eternity in a moment." (Henri Cartier-Bresson, French Photographer)

"Photography is the story I fail to put into words." (Dustin Sparks, American Photographer)

"I see my path, but I don't know where it leads. Not knowing where I'm going is what inspires me to follow it." (Rosalia De Castro, Spanish Poet)

"Photograph: A picture painted by the sun without instruction in art." (Ambrose Bierce, American Author)

Books About Secrets

There have been many books written about secrets. A couple of nights ago, while watching Expedition Unknown with Josh Gates, I learned about one I had not heard of before, even though it was published in 1982.

The Secret by Byron Preiss is a treasure hunt book. Not just one treasure hunt, but twelve, each with an image of immigrants who came to the United States. Each image has an accompanying twelve line verse containing the clues to find the treasure. The image is also linked to a particular month and contains the flower and the birthstone (which is the prize) associated with that month.

In Tuesday's Expedition Unknown episode, Josh visited the locations where the only two treasures have so far been found, Cleveland and Chicago, and the people who found them.
Only two found in thirty-five years! That means there are still ten treasures out there. Other likely locations were mentioned on the show. There is also a website, thesecret.pbworks which lists all the images from the book along with where they might refer to and why.

This treasure hunt book reminded me of another one which might explain why I had never heard of The Secret.

In 1979 Masquerade, written and illustrated by British Artist Kit Williams, had been published. It, too, promised a treasure for the first person who could follow the clues and find it. The treasure was a jewel-encrusted, golden hare.

Williams hid his clues in riddle filled text and in his artwork which was gorgeous. Williams clues, along with all his red herrings, were difficult to solve. I, along with thousands of others, was still trying three years later when The Secret was published. Maybe that is why I don't remember it.

Josh's show reminded me of Masquerade, and though I couldn't think of the title, I did remember the author. I'm sure I had a copy of the book. I wonder if my children remember it?