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Tuesday, December 31, 2019

Read In December 2019

Ten books read this month for a total of 106 for the year.


The Secret Life Of Cows by Rosamund Young was sent to me by daughter Kari. She knows that pictures of cows and calves have become my new favorite happy place when the real world gets to be too much.
Reading this little book reminded me so much of my Mom and how wise she was when it came to understanding her cows.

Tender At The Bone was the second book of Ruth Reichl's also sent to me by Kari. This one covered Ms. Reichl's early life including how and why she became a foodie.

The Dark Angel, The Chalk Pit and The Stone Circle are Elly Griffiths' most recent Ruth Galloway mysteries. I was able to get them through interlibrary loan. Now I am caught up with my favorite forensic archaeologist and have to wait until a new book comes out.

Death in Focus by Anne Perry introduces us to her new mystery series set in pre-WWII and featuring Elena Standish. Perry is a favorite author. I believe I am really going to like this new character.

Dragonfly  is the first book I've read by Leila Meacham. It is about five young Americans chosen and trained to be agents in America's OSS intelligence service and then dropped behind enemy lines. Historical fiction is one of my favorite genres and WWII is one of my favorite topics. I've added Meacham's other books to my reading list.



Cat's Eye one of Margaret Atwood's earlier novels is about a controversial painter who returns to Toronto, the city of her youth. This book is considered to be Atwood's most autobiographical. The depths of her storytelling and the beauty of her prose make this my favorite read for December.

A Cruel Deception is #11 in the Bess Crawford mystery series by the mother-son writing team Charles Todd. Usually these books are among my favorites, but this one seemed long on descriptions and short on plot/action.

A Bitter Feast by Deborah Crombie is #18 in the Duncan Kincaid/Jemma James series and the first in six years! A long wait if you like these characters as much as I do, but worth it to read another finely crafted mystery. I just hope it won't be another six years until the next one.

"These pictures of her, like everything else, are drenched in time." (Margaret Atwood - 'Cat's Eye')


And another quote from Cat's Eye because parts of the book were about her relationship with her brother and this passage speaks of some of my recent thoughts about my own big brother:

"I wonder what it was like for him, having a little sister tagging along. For me he was a given: there was never a time he didn't exist. But I was not a given, for him. Once he was singular, and I was an intrusion. I wonder if he resented me when I was born. Maybe he thought I was a pain in the bum; there's no doubt he thought this sometimes. Considering everything and on the whole though, he made the best of me."


Monday, December 30, 2019

That One Red Feather



Year's End
     By Ted Kooser

Now the seasons are closing their files
on each of us, the heavy drawers
full of certificates rolling back
into the tree trunks, a few old papers
flocking away. Someone we loved
has fallen from our thoughts,
making a little glittering, splash
like a bicycle pushed by the breeze.
Otherwise, not much has happened;
we fell in love again, finding
that one red feather on the wind.


Sunday, December 29, 2019

2019 in Photos - Jan-Dec




























































From April 2019 a bonus picture of one of the Ringnecks....because, you know.......




Peace to you in 2020

Sunday, December 22, 2019

I've Been For A Walk On A Winter's Day

♪ All the leaves are brown and the sky is gray, I've been for a walk on a winter's day... ♪

On the first day of winter to be exact. At 50+ degrees, it seemed a good time to get in perhaps the last outdoor walk of the year.

We went to Green Valley Lake State Park to see what we could see. Canada geese.

Lots and lots and lots of Canada Geese.



An interesting Red Cedar stump.
Wild turkeys. There were three, but this was my best photo.

And one found feather.

Not a bad day at all for the first day of winter.

Saturday, December 21, 2019

Softly Tread



Had I the Heavens' embroidered cloths,
Enwrought with golden and silver light,
The blue and the dim and the dark cloths
Of night and light and the half light,


I would spread the cloths under your feet:
But I, being poor, have only my dreams;
I have spread my dreams under your feet;
Tread softly because you tread on my dreams.

Aedh Wishes for the Cloths of Heaven
          William Butler Yeats

Thursday, December 19, 2019

Throw Back Thursday

One of my favourite things about Facebook was 't-b-t' - throw-back-Thursday. It's mostly a t-o-t-p - thing-of-the-past now. But I love old photos and still share t-b-t's now and again. This is the one I shared today:
It is a picture of my brother Ron and me in 1945. I hash-tagged it "big brother and the holding company" as well as "summertime"only because it featured my big brother and me 'holding' a water dipper and it was obviously summer. The Janis Joplin band and song references were just my attempt at being cute. Which obviously I was at circa 18 months, but in regards the 'big brother etc' remark, I meant cute as in a "clever, self-seeking way".

There is much going on in this photo. I am pointing to the fact that I spilled some water - vis-à-vis - obviously the puddle, but also Ron's slightly lifted left foot.

Ron's patched overalls and my too short dress illustrate the need for my parents to "make due with what you have" during the war years. The peeling paint and the boards repairing the bottom of the screen door are also indications of war time scarcities.

I'm quite certain the plant at the bottom of the photo is deadly nightshade. I'm surprised Mom or Dad hadn't pulled it out with two little kids running around the yard. I do remember being told at a very early age how to identify this plant and NEVER eat those little purple berries. But I also remember it still sprouting up in the back yard other times over the years. We were told to pull and discard it when/where ever we found it on the farm.

One thing the picture does not show is a sagging diaper below the hem of my short dress. With another baby due in the fall, I'm sure my mother already had me potty trained. She would not have wanted two little ones in diapers.

The baby sister who usurped my spot on Mom's lap was born on the Autumnal Equinox. She was another tow-head, just like big brother Ron in this photo.

I treasure the black and white photos that illustrate my youth.

Monday, December 16, 2019

Remember


(Nebraska City, 1991)

              Remember
                                           (Christina Rossetti)

Remember me when I am gone away,
Gone far away into the silent land;
When you can no more hold me by the hand,
Nor I half turn to go, yet turning stay.

Remember me when no more day by day
You tell me of our future that you plann'd:
Only remember me; you understand
It will be late to counsel then or pray.

Yet if you should forget me for awhile
And afterwards remember, do not grieve:
For if the darkness and corruption leave
A vestige of the thoughts that once I had,

Better by far you should forget and smile
Than that you should remember and be sad.

(December 16 - 16 years without you Mom.) 💔

Saturday, December 14, 2019

In the Name of Progress

There is another new path at Lake McKinley which I'm looking forward to walking next spring when I go out with my Nordic poles again.
It is along the west side of the lake so now it is possible to be on a smooth surface except for the gravel roadway across the dam and the short area to the right where it crosses the road here.


The entire west side of the lake looks different than it did just a few years ago. For one thing there's
a whole lot of new homes.

This is one of my favorite photos, one I took in February seven years ago. I was standing further back than when I took the top picture, but it is the same area. They were just beginning to build more houses. I assume the trees were cut to enhance homeowners' views of the lake.

In my opinion, a shame. To paraphrase Robert Frost: I prefer the road less traveled by.

Monday, December 9, 2019

Button, Button, Who's Got The Button

Did you ever play 'Button, button, who's got the button'? I remember playing it in grade school but had forgotten all about it until searching for buttons to photograph for another memory of our 1953 trip to Davenport.

There was no Interstate 80 then. To cross Southern Iowa we traveled U.S. Highway 34. The distance from Corning to Davenport is around 265 miles. The family sedan then was a 1949 Plymouth. I remember there being an extra passenger at least part of the trip because we gave a ride to an older gentleman. I always thought we took him as far as Washington, Iowa but maybe that is where we picked him up. (The man was someone my folks knew - a former neighbor or relative of that neighbor - not a hitchhiker.)

 He was still with us by the time we got to Muscatine and first saw the Mississippi River because he teased my sister and me: "You girls look! Do you see those boys out there in the river?" We were mystified because there were no boys in the water. Of course he was pointing at the buoys. He thought that was a good joke.

This is when I learned that Muscatine was The Pearl Button Capital of the World also known as Pearl City. This is when I also learned the word nacre (and have never forgotten it) and mother-of-pearl. Those fasteners we called pearl buttons were more accurately mother of pearl.



I was impressed that Iowa held the title as pearl button capital of the world and that something as necessary as a button could come from an ordinary clam shell.


I just knew that somewhere I still had some of those mother of pearl buttons. I found the four on the left in a drawer in Grandmother Bessie's treadle sewing machine. For comparison, the four on the right are made from plastic. As you can see, one of the problems with the shell buttons was that they chipped and broke easily.

(More can be found about Muscatine's pearl button history here: http://www.iptv.org/iowapathways/mypath/pearl-button-story )

Wednesday, December 4, 2019

Vander Veer Botanical Park

A few months ago my granddaughter Deise moved to Davenport, IA to be near her boyfriend. He shared this photo of the two of them "Exploring Vanderveer Park Christmas lights".  Just reading that sent my memories back to the summer before I turned 10 years old.


My Dad's sister and family had moved to Davenport. Grandma Lynam had been spending some time with them so we went over to bring her back home. It was a mini-vacation for us, staying a few days, seeing the sights, enjoying time away from farm chores.

This photo of Grandma, my sister Betty on the left, and me looking at my feet, was taken on the back stoop of my Aunt and Uncle's house on N. Ripley Street.








I remember those days as ones of freedom. With my cousins as guides, we were allowed to roam the neighborhood, being introduced to their friends, and, best of all, walking to nearby Vander Veer Botanical Park.

The main draw for me were the swans in the park lagoon. I could sit and watch their graceful swimming for hours. I also liked the park fountain and all the pretty flower beds.

Mom, Grandma and my aunt walked over with us the first time we went. I know Mom was concerned about us crossing the busy intersection at the southwest corner of the park. But there were crossing lights and we assured her we would always be very careful.

One of my cousin's friends lived near the park. He had a sister my age. We became instant friends in the way only total strangers can, bonding over books and whatever else we were into at that age. I remember one afternoon it started raining so she invited me in to see her room. I was already in awe of their house. It seemed like a mansion to me - a stately Dutch Colonial if my memory serves.

Another of my cousin's friends lived just across the driveway from my relatives. Cousin Butch had been telling Jack about me even before we got there. What Butch had told him was that I had a hot  temper, which his friend decided he wanted to see for himself. So day after day he did his best to make me mad, but I kept my cool. Finally he did or said something that really got to me and I slapped him. His look was one of astonishment, but he got to see my temper - just what he wanted. For the rest of the time we were there he left me alone - just what I wanted!

As much as I enjoyed seeing Zachary's pictures of their walk exploring the Christmas lights in Vander Vere Park, I equally enjoyed the prompt they gave me of memories from a summer sixty-six years ago.

(Out of curiousity, I used Google Earth to see if their house was still there. What I found was an area of apartment buildings and parking lots. Perhaps part of the St. Ambrose University complex.)