Books I Read In August

 Eight books read this month.

Choose Me by Tess Gerritsen and Gary Braver is a book I chose because I am a big fan of Tess Gerritsen, but this book was very disappointing. I don't know if it was a true collaboration or if she just added her name to his book to increase sales. 

The Marriage of Opposites by Alice Hoffman is a historical fiction about the mother of artist Camille Pissarro, Rachel Pomié Petit Pazzarro. I've been reading my way through Hoffman's books, but this is one my library didn't have. I wouldn't even have known about it but for its mention on the FB page of an Oregon friend. It came via interlibrary loan from the Auburn, IA library. 

Set in the early 19th Century on the lush island of St. Thomas, it is a beautiful story full of vivid descriptions, strong characters, and family dynamics. Hoffman's use of historical details, island folklore and superstitions made it my favorite read this month. It also sparked my own memories of visiting the U.S. Virgin Islands some 50 years ago, though the St. Thomas I experienced was much different than it would have been in the early 1800's.

Skylight Confessions by Alice Hoffman follows the lives of four generations of the Moody family who live in the Glass Slipper, an architecturally famous house in Connecticut. Though not one of my favorite books by this author, I found this quote on the back of cover of it to be very true: "Hoffman's use of language is nothing less than stellar - She reminds us how little distance there is between magic and mundane." (Amy Waldman) 

The Mother-In-Law by Sally Hepworth along with.....

.....the family next door also by Sally Hepworth are the last two by this author available at my library. I've enjoyed reading Hepworth's books and will read any new ones that come out.

Home Mountain by Jeanne Williams is what I would term a western - not my usual choice of genres, but I really enjoyed this novel. It is an older book, published in 1990, and set in the Arizona Territory during the 1880's, it is the story of a family of orphans being cared for by the eldest sister. It made me wonder if I should read more westerns. The only other book I've read by this author was The Unplowed Sky which I really liked.

Twenty-One Days is the first in Anne Perry's series featuring Daniel Pitt. Although I'm a fan of Perry's, I wasn't going to read this series because I mistakenly thought it another of her Thomas Pitt series which already has more than thirty books. Once I realized it was a new series, I decided to begin following it. These tend to become formulaic after so many books, but who knows, maybe someday I will go back and read all those books in the Thomas Pitt series.  

The Museum of Extraordinary Things by Alice Hoffman is one of her books I've now read for the second time. When I began reading it I thought it seemed vaguely familiar. But it wasn't on my list of books read when I searched on my blogspot. That is because in 2014 I didn't write a monthly book report. I had however kept track of them in a notebook. When I looked at it I found that I did read this book.

At that time I wrote: "Early 1900's freak show in NY Coney Island area. Triangle Shirtwaist fire. Love between unlikely young couple. Not sure how I felt about this book. Unusual subject matter." Well, after the second reading and after reading more books by Hoffman, I can say I really did like and appreciate this book after all. 

'Tis the Last Rose of Summer

This was our June blooming rose on the first day of June.

It is always so lovely, but the blooms don't last long. It only blooms once a year.

So I was really surprised to find, literally, the last rose of summer ths morning.

I have never seen it bloom so late before.

Naturally, this poem by Irish poet Thomas Moore (1779-1852) came to mind. 

The Last Rose of Summer

‘Tis the last rose of Summer,
   Left blooming alone;
All her lovely companions
   Are faded and gone;
No flower of her kindred,
   No rose-bud is nigh,
To reflect back her blushes
  Or give sigh for sigh!

I’ll not leave thee, thou lone one,
   To pine on the stem;
Since the lovely are sleeping,
   Go sleep thou with them.
Thus kindly I scatter
   Thy leaves o’er the bed
Where thy mates of the garden
   Lie scentless and dead.

So soon may I follow,
   When friendships decay,
And from Love’s shining circle
   The gems drop away!
When true hearts lie withered,
   And fond ones are flown,
Oh! who would inhabit
   This bleak world alone?

The words were set to an old Irish folk tune and recorded by many.

I imagine my Irish Bodhran playing son-in-law, Ken, has played and sung it in his performances.

(Pictured here left to right, Ken, Michael and John, The Irish Volunteers, playing in The Irish Cottage at the Minnesota Renaissance Festival in 2007.)

Heritage In and From the History Book

 

At my brother's birthday party in July, one of the memories we talked about was the teachers we had at our one room country school. He remarked that Miss Ternahan was only 17 when she began teaching there in 1947. She had finished her normal training and had special permission from the county superintendent of schools to begin teaching.

This photo of her and her first students that year shows them posing on the steps of the old Adams County Courthouse. Front row and the grade they were in: Delmar Wilson, first; Virginia Vogel, second, Ronald Lynam, third. Back row, Norman Firkins, fifth; Carol Vogel, fourth and Miss Ternahan. Perhaps that there were only five pupils and their young ages contributed to this very young teacher being allowed to begin her career at Jasper #2.

A couple weeks ago when I was looking for information about the Slide-Off near Mt. Etna, I noticed this poem in the front of the Adams County History Book. It was composed by the former Miss Ternahan, June Myers. 

Heritage

Are we struggling to be worthy

     As along life's road we go.

If we're having serious problems

     There's a thing we all should know.

Our heritage is not a face,

     We put on or off at will,

No amount of money bought it,

     No amount will keep it still.

What we are and what we can be,

     Is an attitude of mind.

Share life's story with each other,

     Leaving selfishness behind.

When you leave a heritage to others,

     You are planting God's good seed.

It may help in their life struggle,

     And fulfill your own deep need.

So many people did share their life stories along with family photos. I have referred to my copy so many times that it is beginning to fall apart.

Miss Ternahan was my teacher for only one year - first grade in 1949. It was the only year Mom didn't keep the school photo of me. She said the picture was so bad she wouldn't pay money for it. So when I happened across the above photo in a booklet at the Corning Public Library, I was elated. It wasn't a good photo to begin with - a copy made on a copy machine - but I took a photo of the photo just so I could have a picture of me in first grade. The photo was June's and the writing is her's.

I don't remember alot about my first year of school. I wouldn't even remember riding behind big brother to my first day if Mom hadn't taken this picture. I do remember all the miles walked back and forth in every kind of weather. I remember learning to read. I remember being fiercely competitive with my classmate that year - the only year I had a classmate at Jasper #2 - and I remember how mad I got at the other kids for teasing me about her brother. And I remember thinking Miss Ternahan liked Mary (my classmate) better than me and wondering why.

"And fulfill your own deep need." That last line of June's poem - was she thinking about the desire in all of us to be remembered even after we are gone?

Choosing Happiness

I was listening to the local radio station this morning when I heard a pre-recorded message about August being Happiness Happens Month. A woman spoke about how to choose to be happy. That immediately reminded me of visiting my niece in AZ eleven years ago when her children were young. I don't remember what we were talking about exactly, I just remember her saying emphatically, "I choose to be happy! Every day I make that choice." At the time I thought, "Well that's nice, even admirable, but it isn't possible to be happy just because you say you are going to be." But maybe it has been for her. When I saw her in June, she and her husband had both lost their jobs plus their car which had been stolen when they stopped for the night on the way to Iowa. Yet she was her usual cheerful, happy self.

My level of happiness has been up and down my whole life. I had regular bouts of depression followed by optimism. Once I started taking prescription antidepressants, things evened out alot for me.  Since retiring and having few demands and lots of freedom for pleasurable choices, I don't get depressed anymore, maybe a few days of feeling down, but not depressed. (I no longer take anti-depressants.) Which leads me back to the idea of choosing happiness. The radio speaker said, "Don't limit yourself to searching for pleasure. Enjoy everything and anything that makes you happy." Reading is one of my most pleasurable things to do, but what makes me feel happy is taking my little camera out into nature and taking pictures. Sharing them on my blog, Instagram and on Facebook, both my regular account and recently on the FB Iowa Nature Lovers page, extends my enjoyment.

So here are some happiness happening examples since my last blog for Happiness Happens Month:

 

Shared on FB on the last Friday of the Iowa State Fair - "When you can't go to the fair but it's okay because you have all this free cotton candy at home."

And these from a little later in the morning Friday:

That frisson when you are driving down a street you've traveled hundreds of times and notice for the first time--

-- a little bit of country in the midst of town!

There are still a few of these around town - remnants of early times when most people kept a cow, a horse and some chickens in their back yards.

I just love this little barn; I would love to see what the inside is like, but I was trespassing just to take the photos. 

The pump and a hydrant above the well on the north side of the barn.

A wild grape vine, weeds, a peony, and some gorgeous purple morning glories alongside an old garage.

The peeling paint, showing a bit of the former red color, adds to the wild abandonment feeling of the scene.

Close up of those vibrant purples hiding in the peony.

Sunday morning I just barely got up in time to catch the setting of August's full moon.

When I checked to find the time that the moon was full, I learned something new - it was a 'seasonal blue moon'. Oh, I already knew about the blue moons so named when there are two full moons in the same month, but I don't remember ever hearing about seasonal blue moons - those four seasons a year that normally have only three full moons, one for each month. This year the season of summer has four full moons from June 20 through September 22. Interestingly it is the 3rd full moon, not the 4th that is termed the full blue moon.

This morning I was up earlier so when I noticed the bright reds in the eastern sky I decided to drive out where I could get better photos of it.

By the time I got to my favorite viewing spot just outside of town, darker clouds had rolled in and the reds had already faded. Still, I did get some pretty pink clouds and a wide shot of the sky.

I drove home past Lake McKinley for some more sky shots....

....and some of the Great Blue Heron that can usually be found in and around the lake.

So even though I didn't know it was Happiness Happens Month when I set out, it was definitely a happy way to start the week.

And I wasn't searching for pleasure, I was just out there in the beautiful early morning of summertime Iowa, enjoying something that makes me happy.

💞👩💖

A Trip To Ladoga

I don't know what made me think of Ladoga a few days ago. Maybe it was some reference to Lake Ladoga in Russia. One of my jigsaw puzzles perhaps? At any rate, it rang a distant bell. Why do I know that name? It's someplace around here, but where? Google to the rescue. "Of course, it's in Taylor County, now I remember." 

When I mentioned Ladoga to Bud, he said he'd never heard of it. So when we set off on a little adventure yesterday, I said: "I'm going to show you where Ladoga was. But, first, on the way, I want to stop at the Ladoga Cemetery."

Naturally, along the way I was looking for photo ops. The first one was these two Turkey Vultures sitting on the bare branches of some trees that had been pushed up.

Of course they flew just as I was about to take the picture.

There was no signage for the cemetery, but we found it at the end of a closed road about a quarter mile off the highway.

We wandered around for awhile reading some of the older tombstones.

I admired this huge old tree, though I couldn't identify it. The leaves reminded me of the Chokecherry.

After much research, I think this might be a Black Cherry tree. There were no visible berries, but that could be because the birds and other wildlife have already eaten them.

This was the view north across the valley. It was such a  peaceful, typical summer in Iowa, view.

The tree in the foreground is Osage Orange. You can see the lime green hedge balls on it.

It has been a long time since I was down this road. I had a vague memory of an old schoolhouse and/or a church.The town was long gone but there were still some farm buildings on the east side of the road where it curved to the right.

Now all that remains is this sign marking where the Ladoga School, Washington #9, stood from 1874 to 1959.

Ladoga was founded in 1883 with a post office that lasted until 1913. The population in 1900 was 374. The town was located on the Humeston, Burlington and Shenandoah branch railroad three miles SW of Gravity. 

Destination of our morning outing was Windmill Lake County Park a few miles on down the road. The old well pump was still there, right where I remembered it. We didn't try pumping to see if water would still come out.

A more recent memory was seeing the news about the tornado that struck the campgrounds (directly across the lake from the well) June 16, 2017. A camper with a mother and her three young daughters was blown over and rolled down into the lake. They were able to open a vent and crawl out onto the top as water filled the interior. The mom swam her 4-year old to shore and then swam back to stay with her 8-month old and 10 year-old daughters on the roof until help arrived. I just remember thinking how terrified they must have been and how lucky that they all survived.

Other photos taken at the lake:

Great Blue Heron

You can see how low the water is.

Monarch Butterfly

Flowers of the Arrowhead plant which I had never seen before.

There is a little brown Skipper butterfly on the top bloom.

And, lastly, the windmill at Windmill Lake. I don't know if it was damaged in that tornado or has just succumbed to old age and wear and tear.

It was a nice morning to be out and about - another successful little jaunt out into the countryside and nature.

 

Much More About That Slide-Off

 

In Tuesday's post I mentioned my folks taking us to the 'Slide-off' SE of Mt. Etna and showing us an old burial ground. I remember that day well, even though it was more than 68 years ago. There were no gravestones, only a few of those metal funeral home markers.

It was a beautiful autumn day. The leaves had changed to their fall colors, blue jays were hollering and the timber had that luscious redolence only found in the woods. And Grandma Lynam was with us.

After a short hike, we found the small area with those few markers and some large stones. We looked over to see the Middle Nodaway River curving by below. 

This photo was taken across the road from the one of  the Middle Nodaway River Valley. It isn't the farm gate we went through to the Slide-Off, but it is nearby.

My Uncle Howard's brother wrote the following which is in the 1984 Adams County History Book:

The Old Slide-Off Burying Place 

"The tiny tract perched a-top one of the higher bluffs rising abruptly from the river south and east of Mt. Etna involves a bit of half-forgotten local history. Here, to begin with, was an Indian burying ground. Then much later, when smallpox struck the newly-arrived white man, the Mt. Etna settlement brought their dead; --mostly young folks and very small children, to the place.

The steep bluff is known locally as the 'Slide-off'. Many years ago, (around a hundred, according to some sources), a portion of this bluff slid off into the Middle Nodaway, taking along, according to the 'old-timers', an undetermined number of graves.

No one brings flowers to this lonely place. No human hands guard this forgotten abode of the dead to contest the encroaching wilderness as it moves to obliterate all evidence of Man. Those rare hardy souls who must re-explore the old grave-sites, are slated to rely on their two feet and (hopefully), an accrate memory to take them through a trackless wilderness to their destination. After having arrived, they will search in vain for graves. There never were conventional head-stones, and the flat rocks placed there so long ago to mark the last resting place of loved ones, are long gone.

Certain old records list the names of those laid to rest on the Big Bluff. This list (which may, or may not, be complete) contains names familiar to most who lived, or have lived in Adams County. There was a Fees, a Homan, and a Boswell among the little tots buried up here. And Mary Morton, wife and mother, and four of her nine children are buried somewhere in the tangle of tall grass, brush and vines.

The list of names provides practically the only tangible information regarding these graves. And this, plus the 'word-of-mouth' accounts passed down from previous generations, are the scraps, bits and pieces which, when fitted into a pattern, will produce a reasonably accurate account of the Old Slide-off grave-site and its forgotten tenants.

It is desireable that this be set down on paper for posterity. And it is important that this be done while local sources of information are still around. Here is an item of Adams Co. history, -- and a bit, however infinitesimal, of America's past." Eldon (Zeke) Roberts

Zeke served as Adams County Assessor for twenty years. He also wrote The Roberts Clan and Pitchforks and Scoopshovels, both of which are available at the Corning Public Library. I mentioned that he is the brother of  Howard, who is my uncle by marriage. So I wouldn't be related to Zeke, except - his wife's mother was a Means - a cousin of my Grandma Delphia. So, I consider their kids my cousins - distant, but, still. My Mom once told me we were related to half of the county. 😀

Muggy Monday Morning - Second Half

 

Boy the air conditioning felt good when we got back into the car.

Off the dirt road and on gravel, headed to the highway.

From a distance I thought all the orange along the road was tiger lilies, but it was sumac already beginning to color.

It is sad to see dead trees, yet they make a statement about the cycle of life as well as an elegant, striking background.

From here: destination DNR Wildlife Area and Food Plot.

So many people had been posting pictures of Sunflower Fields that it made me wish there was one nearby that I could visit.

Then I found a DNR map showing all the locations of Sunflower Fields this year and saw that there is one in Adams County!

Of course I had to find it.

This field is not as impressive as some, but it's a start and I'm sure the birds will love it.

There are still quite a few weeds and grasses mixed in as well as other wildflowers. The purple ones among all the yellow is Ironweed. 

The field is at the end of Kale Avenue on the north side of Lake Icaria. There is a parking area. Signage shows it as a DNR "Wildlife Management Area Public Hunting" zone.

We followed this path to the sunflower field and on down to the lake.

I was actually on the way back when, unbeknownst, Bud took this photo of me - always on the lookout for another photo op. I love the image.

No matter where, I always find plenty of things to stop and take a picture of....

....like the fungi and lichen on these trees.

And this blue Damselfly on the stem of a spent Dandelion.

There were many of these blue damselflies darting about.

As well as a number of Pearl Crescent butterflies.

This butterfly gets its name from the light colored crescent on the underside of its back wing.

There is a jetty at the end of the trail which is where I took this panoramic view of the lake looking west. There's also a good view looking east showing how big the lake really is and a part visitors probably wouldn't normally see unless they are in a boat. The lake covers 650 acres and was completed in 1978 - the year the kids and I moved back home. 

I remember that they predicted it would take two to three years to fill the lake. Then we had a really big rain event that filled the lake almost overnight. We practically lived at the beach the summer of 1980 when it was so hot.

Another view from the jetty. This one looking across to a similar structure at the end of Kale Avenue.

Note all the large chunks of limestone used to construct the jetties. Iowa's land was once under the sea, which accounts for the many limestone deposits.

It isn't unusual to find fossils in limestone which is what I was looking for when I saw this:

A really big rock that I wish I could have brought home. 

Just look at all those pretty, sparkling crystals.

I'm content with the rocks I did find and I have this photo to remember the "one that got away". 😉

I don't remember how many farmsteads disappeared under the water to form Lake Icaria, but when I looked at this post and back into the underbrush at what I thought could be timber from a foundation, it did remind me of all the houses, barns, and out buildings that are no longer there.

I was not familiar with this bush. My best guess is it is either some species of Dogwood or possibly Arrowwood Viburnum.

But that's the fun of finding something new. It leads me to discover things I do not know about.

Two more new plants and best guesses:

The American, or, Tall Bellflower.

And the dainty little pink Rough (or Smooth?) Hedge Nettle.

Pictured here with the web of a Grass Spider.

Another damselfly - this one Brown.

This is a good example of how you can miss half of what is there to be seen. 

Going toward the sunflower field, this colony of yellow Lotus wasn't visibly noticed from the road. Going back on the same road, they were right there.

I'm so glad we didn't miss these beauties.

We made one last stop before heading home. This one at the old reservoir so Bud could take a photo to send to son Mark. This is where, when he was just a little boy, Mark fell into the water, or as he tells it, "Dad tried to drown me." Mark had on a pair of overalls. His Dad calmly reached down and plucked him out by the suspenders. 

The event has become one of those family legends.

Even with the heat and humidity, did I have a good time?

I think you can see the answer to that question by the smile on my face.

It was a wonderful morning outing and we were only gone three hours.

Muggy Monday Morning - First Half

 

Last year during the Covid-19 pandemic we did our best to avoid crowds, self-isolated, etc. In order not to go completely stir crazy, we started taking little getaways into the natural world.

It was so nice to get fully vaccinated and start seeing family and friends again; returning to 'normal'. But now with the Delta variant getting so bad, we're back to wearing masks and taking little trips out and about instead of sitting home all day long.

Monday morning was hot, humid, muggy and foggy, but we had already planned a nearby outing, so off we went.

This was the first photo I took in Adams County, NE of Carl. I could imagine it being the site of a former homestead.

Next stop was on the bridge over the Middle Nodaway river East of Mt. Etna.

Which is where I took this foggy, dreamy picture of a very low river.

It's also where I was gobsmacked to see my first ever Pileated Woodpecker - and just missed getting a photo of it.

Then a drive up the winding hill and a right turn onto Mt Etna Trail, remembering when I was young and my folks took us to see the "Slide Off" above the river and the very early graves of people buried in that impressive spot.

Down the Trail a little farther to this beguiling view of the Middle Nodaway River Valley.

It occured to me that this would be the perfect spot from which to shoot a quadriptych of four seasons.

Is there anything more seductive during a drive in the countryside than an old dirt road? Not for me.

This country byway should have a more attractive, descriptive name than 140th Street.

I would call it Lenora's Lane in remembrance of a dear older friend who shared with me her memories of taking this route when she traveled from her job in town to her home in Mt. Etna.

A small meandering stream, responsible for draining the surrounding watershed, on its way to empty into the river.

Wildlife tracks were plentiful and birdsong here was profuse.

It was so peaceful, even though there was some construction going on a half mile away.

I love Honey Locusts. Their perfume is delightful when the trees blossom.

But be very careful around them. Watch out for those thorns. They can be lethal.

A field of Chicory and Queen Anne's lace with a soybean field and the greenbelt along the river in the distance.

In the foreground, some more Chicory and the buds and bloom of, I believe, a Tall Thistle.

There are so many varieties of thistle it is hard to identify them all.

If this is a Tall Thistle, it is one of the plants native to North America.

Thistles are an important food source for our state bird, The American Goldfinch. 

Back on the road, turning another corner, driving down past another bean field, I spied something out of place. "Stop. Stop. What was that? Back up."

Are those alien pods?

Nope. Just an escaped balloon bouquet. From what? A wedding? A birthday party? 

And from where? How long, how far had they floated to land here in an out of the way soybean field?

From the first photo to this one had been 45 minutes.

Earlier I asked if there was anything more seductive than an old dirt road.

It turns out the answer is: "Yes. An old dirt road with rocks, a lot of rocks, a lot, a lot of rocks."

We had not planned on doing any rock hunting during this hot, humid morning, but the addiction is real. "Just for a few minutes", we said.

The last picture taken before moving on was this one of  a couple Partridge Pea plants.

Our "few minutes" picking rocks had turned into forty minutes. 

These are the pretties which came home with me.

Doesn't that one second from the left beneath the largest rock look like the plastron (underside) of a turtle?

There is something unique about each of the rocks I kept.

 

This is what they look like on the other side.

I try to stick to the littler rocks and not bring home anything too big, but I couldn't resist that largest stone.

Let's face it, I'm a rockaholic.

Tomorrow, the second half of a Muggy Monday Morning.