March '23 Book List

Wow! Twelve books read in March. That's the most in one month for quite awhile. But when I find a new author I really like, I tend to devour all her/his books that I can. Jeffrey Archer books are hard to put down.

Hidden In Plain Sight, Turn A Blind Eye and Over My Dead Body completed the William Warwick series by Jeffrey Archer that I began at the end of February. 

Peril In Paris by Rhys Bowen is the sixteenth in Her Royal Spyness Mysteries. These are always quick, fun little mysteries to read. 

The Sins Of The Father, Best Kept Secret, and Be Careful What You Wish For are the first three books in The Clifton Chronicles Series by Jeffrey Archer. I thought his Warwick series was good but these are really good! It is interesting that one of the main characters in this series is the author of the Warwick novels. Adds an interesting twist and storyline to this series.

The Book Woman's Daughter by Kim Michele Richardson is the follow up to her first novel, The Bookwoman of Troublesome Creek. It too is a historical novel based on the real packhorse librarians, mostly women, who took books to people in the remote areas of the Appalachians in Eastern Kentucky from 1935 to 1943 as part of the Works Progress Administration. 

I really enjoyed both of Richardson's books and learning something new about the Depression era. In addition to the packhorse project, the Frontier Nursing Service which was founded by Mary Breckinridge in 1925, was also featured. Reading about the nurses who took medicines and care into the isolated areas sparked a memory for me. 

When I worked in Des Moines in the 1970's, I met a young woman who had been a traveling nurse in Kentucky. I can't remember where/how I knew her nor her name, but I can still picture her. It may have been when I worked at Home Federal S&L or maybe at a women's retreat I attended, but I recall being so surprised that there were still visiting nurses going into the mountains of Kentucky at that time and that some homes were still without electricity and piped water. I assumed 'everyone' had entered the 20th Century. 

Someone Else's Shoes by Jojo Moyes is a story about two very different women who accidently get one another's gym bags and end up with very different shoes. Moyes always tells excellent stories about everyday lives. This one, about women from opposite ends of the social strata becoming friends, was a very satisfying read.

Two more of Jeffrey Archer's Clifton Chronicles, Mightier Than The Sword and Cometh The Hour, completed my reading for the month of March. I only have one more in this series to read and I am really going to hate seeing it end. But I do see that he has two more William Warwick novels - one scheduled for this coming October and one for October 2024. 

In the interim, I'm once again going to be hunting for new authors to read.

To Look At Things In Bloom

The National Cherry Blossom Festival in Washington, D.C. is in progress - March 18 - April 16. Tomorrow is the opening ceremony co-presented with the Japan Foundation. After watching a video of the hoopla surrounding past opening ceremonies I can tell you I wouldn't want to be there during that - too many people; too much noise.

But I always thought it would be lovely to be there when all the cherry blossoms were at their peak. I had seen many pictures like the one above where the Jefferson Memorial was featured in the background with the trees in the foreground. The closest I ever came was in late April, 1975. The blossoms were spent but petals still littered the walkway. I stood on what has always seemed to me the west side, but is acutally more southeasterly, and gazed at what I think is the most beautiful of the presidents' memorials. I was in awe that I was acutally there and had the place almost entirely to myself. The last time I stood there and looked across the Tidal Basin was in the fall of 2008; no cherry blossoms, but it was still awesome.

A Shropshire Lad  2: Loveliest of trees, the cherry now

BY A. E. HOUSMAN

Loveliest of trees, the cherry now

Is hung with bloom along the bough,

And stands about the woodland ride

Wearing white for Eastertide.

Now, of my threescore years and ten,

Twenty will not come again,

And take from seventy springs a score,

It only leaves me fifty more.

And since to look at things in bloom

Fifty springs are little room,

About the woodlands I will go

To see the cherry hung with snow.

 

In Celebration of International Poetry Day

Mary Oliver has been my favorite female poet since I discovered her poems. I thought I had most of her poems in my blogs, but I don't find that I have used this one before. So in recognition of International Poetry Day, here is Loneliness.

Loneliness by Mary Oliver

I too have known loneliness.

I too have known what it is to feel

misunderstood,

rejected, and suddenly

not at all beautiful.

Oh, mother earth,

your comfort is great, your arms never withhold.

It has saved my life to know this.

Your rivers flowing, your roses opening in the morning.

Oh, motions of tenderness!
And another poem by a newly discovered poet, Roque Dalton:

Like You By Roque Dalton
Like you I
love love, life, the sweet smell
of things, the sky-blue
landscape of January days.
And my blood boils up
and I laugh through eyes
that have known the buds of tears.
I believe the world is beautiful
and that poetry, like bread, is for everyone.
And that my veins don’t end in me
but in the unanimous blood
of those who struggle for life,
love,
little things,
landscape and bread,
the poetry of everyone.

We don't have to have an International Day in order to appreciate poetry. As Dalton said:"Poetry, like bread, is for everyone"! 💖

The Happy Whistler*

Main Street Corning has been sharing old photos of buildings in the town's business district on their Facebook page. These often elicit some of my memories associated with the structures.

In my youth, the Biggar's Department Store on the corner of Seventh and Davis, loomed large. Until Place's opened their "Dime Store", it was the store we shopped at - mostly in the bargain basement area. The wide stairway to the basement was to the left of the front doors. There was a full flight of stairs then a landing followed by four or five more stairs. The basement was where the material and sewing notions was, and, importantly, restrooms.

Mom often whistled while she worked* and older brother Ron could whistle. I so badly wanted to be able to whistle, too. I tried and tried to hold my lips just right and blow. I practiced all the time.

Mom always held Betty's and my hands when we were in town. I imagine I was around the age of five on the particular Saturday we were going down the stairs in Biggar's. I was puckering and blowing, blowing, blowing. We were close to the landing when all of a sudden I whistled! Oh, the joy! I could finally whistle! It was a red-letter day for sure - and one I've never forgotten and still associate with that store on the corner of Seventh and Davis, even if it is no longer Biggar's - and hasn't been for a very long time.

An early photo of the main floor of Biggar's Department "Store; also from the Facebook page of Main Street Corning. I do remember when Mom needed a new winter coat she looked through the rack. But after checking the price tags, she turned away.

*Though 'Whistle While You Work', "Just whistle while you work, - when hearts are high, the time will fly, so whistle while you work" had been around since the 1937 Disney movie, Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs, 'The Happy Whistler' written and performed by Don Robertson, reached the #6 slot on the U.S. pop chart in 1956. I could never achieve that level of whistling ability but I loved the tune and its snappy finger popping. 

Don't We All, Dorothy?

When I think of Dorothy Parker I think of her as an acerbic wit - a member of the Algonquin Round Table. But she was also a poet. Her poems are ones I have discovered late in my poetry loving life.

Bridal Shower Absentee

 

Yesterday was my youngest granddaughter's bridal shower. 

There was one VIP missing - me! Okay, I'm not really a very important person, but my grandchildren make me feel like I am in their lives.

I had been looking forward to being there and planned to ride along with my son and daughter-in-law. 

Then, for the first time in years, I caught a bad cold. I had just begun feeling safe to quit wearing a mask in public. I should have known better!

Bud hadn't felt well for a couple of days. It just seemed like a cold. Then Monday I thought, uh oh, I caught his cold. By Tuesday I really felt icky. Wednesday I was worse. Tired, achy, could not stop coughing and my chest was so tight. Bud was better, but said, "maybe it's Covid"? I said "no, it's just a cold". Thursday I was a little better. Friday I was a lot better, but knew I could not go to the shower and possibly infect others. Besides, I was still so drained of any energy. I called my son and told him what was going and that I wasn't going to be able to go with them.

He offered to drive down and pick up my shower gift and take it for me. Which I thought was too much trouble for him, but was glad he was willing to do so. I said, "My presence might be absent, but my present will be present." I wore a mask while he was here and hope he hasn't gotten sick.

Yesterday I felt really icky again after thinking I was better the day before. Today, I think I'm finally on the mend. I sure hope so. In the meantime, Shalea shared photos of the day - thank goodness - and I did facetime with them a little toward the end of the shower. So I didn't miss out completely. 

Four of my granddaughters are in this photo along with two of my greats in the front row - Deise standing behind Dominique and Kathryn and Katrina in front with Louis and Brynley.

Dominique's best friend Molly made it. They have been friends since  high school.

 

Both her sisters were present - Kathryn on the left, Deise on the right with her mom, my daughter-in-law, Shalea next to the Bride-to-Be.

I'm still disappointed I couldn't have been there, but if I had to miss one of the occasions, I'm glad it was the bridal shower and not the wedding!

As for whether or not what I've had was Covid? I didn't get tested so I don't know. But I did read the symptoms of the current variant making the rounds. Maybe it was Covid?

March - A Wild Stormy Month

Not still winter, not yet spring, the month of March can be a mixed bag. It was referred to as the "Muddy Month" when I was young. The 'bottom would go out' on the gravel roads and deep ruts would form. Or you might get stuck in a snow drift. But March could also bring sunny skies and warm breezes. A very fickle month is March. Something William Cullen Bryant (1794-1878) understood. 

March

The stormy March is come at last,
With wind, and cloud, and changing skies,
I hear the rushing of the blast,
That through the snowy valley flies.

Ah, passing few are they who speak,
Wild stormy month! in praise of thee;
Yet, though thy winds are loud and bleak,
Thou art a welcome month to me.

For thou, to northern lands, again
The glad and glorious sun dost bring,
And thou hast joined the gentle train
And wear'st the gentle name of Spring.

And, in thy reign of blast and storm,
Smiles many a long, bright, sunny day,
When the changed winds are soft and warm,
And heaven puts on the blue of May.

Then sing aloud the gushing rills
And the full springs, from frost set free,
That, brightly leaping down the hills,
Are just set out to meet the sea.

The year's departing beauty hides
Of wintry storms the sullen threat;
But in thy sternest frown abides
A look of kindly promise yet.

Thou bring'st the hope of those calm skies,
And that soft time of sunny showers,
When the wide bloom, on earth that lies,
Seems of a brighter world than ours.

Spending Too Much Time With Memories?

Between the lingering hangover of Covid isolation and winter weather, I spend more time living in the past with my memories than looking forward to the future. But then my best times are in the past. It seems like I remember reading in the AARP magazine about looking forward to something was better for mental health than living in the past. And I saw a FB post suggest that at our age we should reflect less and plan for the future more. Personally, I appreciate this quote from Walt Disney: "I love the nostalgic myself. I hope we never lose the things of the past". I suppose the answer is to try and balance between the two.

This showed up on a feed this morning. It feels affirming.

I am perfectly happy to be at home with my husband though I know it would be good for me to get out a little more - broaden my horizons - at least talk to other people. 

This week I finally have gone to the grocery and library without a mask on. It feels like freedom though I'm still leery of doing so. It felt good to talk to people and actually smile where it could be seen. I have thought about attending a program or two at the library like a book discussion group or "Chair Yoga For Mobility & Brain Health". I should do that not just think about doing it. I wonder if there is a spot still open?

"Memories need to be shared" is a quote by Lois Lowry and because the reason I started writing this blog was to pass my memories on to my family members, I think it is only natural that many of my posts are about my memories. And I'm sure that as I continue sorting through the litter of my life I'll keep finding pieces of memories to share. 

Celebrating National 'Old Stuff Day'

Today is National Old Stuff Day. I keep wanting to add an e to make it Olde which seems to me would be more appropriate. It is suggested that it's the day to: "Clean out closets and garages, rediscover old treasures and declutter our lives.

For me, this is an ongoing process as I try to sort through a lifetime of holding on to stuff. Yesterday I found my, worse for wear, "Rural Eighth Grade Promotion Exercises" program. Oh how I still remember that day. I was twelve years old, a country bumpkin who had only been in the high school building a few times, mostly in the auditorium for my older brother's class plays, etc.

The only other eighth grade kids I knew were the ones from the other Jasper Township schools. They had us gather in the first floor hallway and then began the process of lining us up. I remember a cute boy talking to me. We exchanged names and I still remember his; Donald Shinkle. Though he said "Donnie". I thought I might see him again in high school but he attended Prescott H.S. instead of Corning. Here are scans of the program...

Of the forty-eight graduates, all but eleven or twelve of them attended Corning High School. Besides, going to Prescott, a few attended Lenox High School.

Were those other kids as nervous that day as I was? Excited, but scared, about the idea of being in high school!

And how did those who performed get chosen? Did they volunteer? Why wasn't Larry Palma's school number listed as "Colony #?"?

How many are still alive? What were their lives like?

I did get a new dress for graduation. It was tan with a big brown bow.

In the front yard in front of the largest peony bush was where I wanted my picture taken. Obviously the wind was blowing.

From my diary that day: "I graduated this afternoon. Wore my new tan dress. Grandma Lynam gave me a blouse. Aunt Leona gave me a necklace and a scarf.

The next afternoon: "Went to town. I signed up for my studies for H.S." The beginning of a new chapter. But first, summer vacation!

A Letter To Mom February 1954

I had no idea I could write in cursive when I was only ten and a half years old. I would have guessed around twelve maybe. Also, it's too bad I didn't find this letter before yesterday - like about two weeks ago. 

The page was folded up and on the outside I had written: "Ruth Lynam % Greater Community Hospital, Creston, Iowa." No stamp, so I know I sent it with my Dad to give to her. 

And this is why I wrote: "I would like to see Leslie Louis".  

I had a baby brother! And I couldn't wait to hold him. 

I treasure these old reminders of my past.

It is a new month and one I look forward to every year - March - when spring arrives. 

"March is a tomboy with tousled hair, a mischievous smile, mud on her shoes and a laugh in her voice." (Hal Borland)

I read that and immediately thought of this picture of my daughter --

Oh, I know we'll still have more snow, but I always get such a hopeful feeling when spring is near.