November '23 Book List

Slightly better than last month - six books read in November.

normal rules don't apply by Kate Atkinson is a collection of short stories nominally tied together. I've been a big fan of this author since I first discovered her, but this book did not live up to my expectations - not her usual offerings.

heat wave is by Nancy Thayer - a new author for me. It is a typical wife loses husband, must start over raising her two daughters alone and learning to love again. Saving grace - it is set on Nantucket.

Things You Save in a Fire is by Katherine Center - also a new author for me and also about a woman learning to trust and love a man. This book was a little more interesting than the previous one. It is about the only female firefighter in a station of men who don't want her there even though she is determined to stay.

New And Selected Poems by Mary Oliver was an 80th birthday gift from my brother Les and his wife Susan. Mary Oliver is one of my favorite poets but I did not have any of her books of poetry. This is a very much appreciated gift.

Which, surprisingly, led to one of the most meaningful moments of my birthday celebration. I was telling everyone what a great poet this author was, how much I loved her work and that they should read some of her poems. I said, "Let me give you an example" and started looking for a shorter poem to read aloud. Everyone listened attentively - especially two of my great-grandsons sitting in front of me. The poem was Wild Geese which begins "You do not have to be good". I think that's what got Maverick and Sawyer's attention. 😉 My brother Les is the one in the checked shirt.

Resurrection Walk by Michael Connelly is the 7th novel in his Lincoln Lawyer series. This one also includes his half-brother, Harry Bosch, the main character in Connelly's other series. I love this author and his characters. I had the feeling, from comments in the author's notes, that this might be his last book. But an internet search doesn't say that for certain. I hope there are more!

The Other Woman by Daniel Silva is #18 in the Gabriel Allon series. I know I have at least three more to read in the series. These books are well written and have given me much more of an understanding about the Arab-Israeli conflicts including the one going on now.

Cold weather, shorter days, longer nights are here - perfect for reading. It was nice out today so I went to the library and stocked up - five big fat books to start the last month of 2023.

Do I Really Remember Him?

I woke up thinking about my paternal grandfather, George. He was born 132 years ago today and died September 14, 1947 about two and a half months before his 56th birthday and a little more than two months before I turned four years old.

I say I have memories of being two and having my little sister take my place in Mom's arms and on her lap. Do I have real memories of my grandpa? Or only 'memories' from the photos of me pictured with him? I tried to think of any distinct memories but only came up with a shadowy figure. (I was two in the photo above. Wanting to hold my baby sister? Or take her place in Grandma Bessie's arms?)

Grandpa George was a handsome, distinguished looking man in this photo of him, my grandma Bessie and my dad Louis.

And looking a little older and not as robust in this one, possibly taken not long before he died. Dad and Aunt Leona in back Grandma and Grandpa in front. Aunt Leona would have been 20 in 1945 which is about the age I think she looks in this photo.

If my brother older brother Ron can clearly remember going to Great-grandpa George Means funeral when he (Ronald) was only two years, seven months old, surely I can remember Grandpa George Lynam when I was almost four years old. Do I? I'm still pondering - looking for those specific memories. 

Married To Amazement

 Another poem by Mary Oliver, because she gets it.

When Death Comes

When death comes like the hungry bear in autumn; when death comes and takes all the bright coins from his purse to buy me, and snaps the purse shut; when death comes like the measle-pox; when death comes like an iceberg between the shoulder blades, I want to step through the door full of curiosity, wondering: what is it going to be like, that cottage of darkness? And therefore I look upon everything as a brotherhood and a sisterhood, and I look upon time as no more than an idea, and I consider eternity as another possibility, and I think of each life as a flower, as common as a field daisy, and as singular, and each name a comfortable music in the mouth, tending, as all music does, toward silence,

and each body a lion of courage, and something precious to the earth. When it’s over, I want to say: all my life I was a bride married to amazement. I was the bridegroom, taking the world into my arms. When it’s over, I don’t want to wonder if I have made of my life something particular, and real. I don’t want to find myself sighing and frightened, or full of argument. I don’t want to end up simply having visited this world.

Seven years ago a friend of my daughter (and a FB friend of mine), a talented and prolific writer, shared the following post about death which I saved because it resonates with me.

"She rose, weightless and filled with light, her mind a beacon calling to wonders beyond that which she had known, her heart a pulse matching the rhythm of universe and others who were traveling. Vast constellations of light (like stars) shifted and changed as she moved along her own continuum. She was not who she had been and yet had never been more herself; there was no fear - only a kind of awe that it should be like this. 

In the distance, something said her name; it was a feeling more than a noise, and her excitement carried her quickly along to what felt certain to be her Next Place. Another adventure. A new beginning. She looked behind only once, to send them her love, and whispered that, in the end, time is something you wake from when you are tired of sleeping." 💖

Love of Bare November Days

 

My November Guest

My Sorrow, when she's here with me,
Thinks these dark days of autumn rain
Are beautiful as days can be;
She loves the bare, the withered tree;
She walks the sodden pasture lane.

Her pleasure will not let me stay.
She talks and I am fain to list:
She's glad the birds are gone away,
She's glad her simple worsted grey
Is silver now with clinging mist.

The desolate, deserted trees,
The faded earth, the heavy sky,
The beauties she so truly sees,
She thinks I have no eye for these,
And vexes me for reason why.

Not yesterday I learned to know
The love of bare November days
Before the coming of the snow,
But it were vain to tell her so,
And they are better for her praise

    By Robert Frost

The Gettysburg Address and Pickett's Charge

One hundred sixty years ago today, November 19, 1863, President Abraham Lincoln delivered his Gettysburg Address at the dedication of the Soldier's National Cemetery.  

Only four and a half months earlier, at the Gettysburg Battle, my Great-great-great grandfather fought and was wounded during Pickett's Charge (fought across the area in the picture above). 

Naturally I learned about The Gettysburg Address in grade school but I understood more about it and the Battle of Gettysburg during my later years. Still, it didn't really resonate with me until I learned my 3xgreat-grandfather had taken part in that particular conflict during the Civil War. 

Now our country is so divided it makes me wonder if we are headed for another civil war. I certainly hope not. I hope somehow, someway, someone (or more than one) will be able to heal the rift between the conservatives and the liberals and unite the majority of Americans once again in a common cause.

Abraham Lincoln seemed to me like an intelligent, caring, wise leader. I wonder if he would have any good advice for today's politicians. 

Some Pics and Thoughts About My Big 80th

 

When I first learned that my daughter-in-law was planning a big celebration for my 80th birthday, I wasn't sure how I felt about it. In the past I celebrated milestone birthdays by going on a solitary retreat - being in nature, journeling, reflecting on my life.

But having a  big party with family turned out to be more than I could have imagined. What a day!

Thank you Shalea for all the planning and preparations. You did such a marvelous job. 💖

The photos aren't in any particular order, but I have to start with this one because it was the biggest surprise of the day. I could not help but tear up when my nephew Ian and his family arrived. I hadn't seen Ian and Heidi since their eldest, Maya, was a baby.

I had given up on ever meeting my brother, Les' two youngest grandchildren, Keira and Austin, in person. 

I am beyond grateful that this family came to my birthday.  

I could not have been more surprised and happy.

And very grateful both my brothers were with me and my brother-in-law Gene. (My deceased sister Betty's husband.)

Ron, Les and I were posed for pics when I said, "wait, my other brother has to be in here too!" which is when Gene slid his chair over in front of us. 

My other big surprise was that my niece Lorrie and her husband Kevin flew up from Phoenix to be with me.

This photo is of me and my nephews Andrew and Ian and nieces Lorrie and Kristi. 

Other family I had not seen for awhile was granddaughter Alyssa and great-grandchildren Lily and Maverick.

Can you tell I was especially happy to see great-granddaughter Lily? She is my first great-granddaughter and very special to me.

Two of my children were present, Preston on the left and Douglas on the right.

The other two, daughter Kari and bonus son Mark, had visited us in late summer and early fall.

Chess players! So happy to see these two great-grandsons carry on a family tradition (of sorts). 

These are two of Doug's grandsons, Rodney left and Jack, right.

Grandpa Bud and Grandma Ramona with the six of their nine grandchildren who were there.

Ki, Bud and Zach in back.

Dominique, Deise, me, Katrina and Alyssa in front.

One of those granddaughters said, "we all have to cross our legs". Don't ask me. Some kind of  'thing' I guess. 😕

Brother Ron and me with two of his three children, the twins, Andrew and Lorrie. 

I last saw the twins at Ron's 81st birthday. (Belated 80th due to Covid.)

Granddaughter Deise and I share our birthdays. She is my 'Irish' granddaughter because I had been to Ireland shortly before she was born and her parents gave her an Irish name.

She was born on my 51st - 29 years ago.

I always tease her about spoiling our anniversary plans for that weekend by not arriving in a 'timely' manner as her two older siblings had. It was so late by the time she made her entrance we decided not to leave town. 

Always happy to see my little brother Les and my sister-in-law Susan.

In the background are brother-in-law Gene and niece Kristi.

There were so many photos of family groupings I'm afraid I will leave someone out.

Son Preston, daughter-in-law Shalea with three of their five children and two of their three grandsons.

Zachary, Deise, Ki and Dominique in back. Preston, me, Shalea and Ian, middle.

Greyson and Ayden in front. Zach is Deise's partner and Ian is Dominique's husband.

Grouping with son Douglas and daughter-in-law Shelly's clan.

Zach, Alyssa, Katrina and grandson Rodney back row.

Grandson Sawyer, Doug, granddaughter Brynley on my lap, Shelly and granddaughter Lily, middle.

Grandsons Maverick and Jack in front.

Boy those kids are growing!

Nephews Ian and Andrew bookending brother Les.

Ian, in my opinion, is the one who most resembles my Dad.

It was great to see both these nephews again.

Shalea's Dad, Pete, and grandson-in-law, Ian. 

Pete and I have been co-grandparents for more than 30 years. Long enough that we have become good friends. He surprised me with a b'day card and a fifty dollar bill. I said, "Hey, you forgot the other $30."  He also told me I had a few years to go before I caught up with him.

With my nephew and family -

LtoR - Heidi, Austin, me, Ian with Keira on lap and Maya.

I'm still basking in the glow of their presence yesterday. 

Bud got a picture of most of the great-grands playing outside.

LtoR: Ayden, Brynley being held by Lily, Maverick, Jack in front of Rodney and Greyson.

Missing is Sawyer. He told me, "I don't like being in social situations." 

Me in the midst of all those wonderful great-grands and nieces and nephews.

Lto R - Milacha's daughter, and I'm so sorry I can't remember her name. (Milacha is Andrew's partner.) Jack, Keira, Greyson, Maya, Ayden, Austin, Me, Rodney, Lily, Brynley, Sawyer and Maverick.

It is always a treat to be around the young ones.

Not sure who came up with the idea for the rock shirts, but I love it! And I love that they got me a shirt, too.

Deise, Dominique, Shalea, Rodney, me, Katrina and Alyssa. In front, Maverick, Brynley and Lily.

One of the best presents was a book of Mary Oliver's poems from Les and Susan. I was telling everyone what a great poet she was and how much I loved her poems and then read one of them, 'Wild Geese'.  It begins, "You do not have to be good," and ends with "announcing your place in the family of things." It felt perfect and meaningful to read it.

It was such a wonderful celebration of my 80 years. Thank you to all who made it so special. 💛

Early Pictures of My Dad

 

In the process of organizing some of my boxes of photos, I found this card from my Aunt Leona. 

Inside she talks about us using email to stay in touch instead of writing letters. So it must have been around 2001 when she sent the card. Inside were  a number of old photos of my father, Louis, as a boy.

One of the best photos was this one: "Louis at McKay Place" written on back.

His faithful friend was not identified.

Louis with his little sister Leona.

Dad was 8 years old when she was born.

Again, Dad and Leona along with a different, unnamed, dog. 

It looks like Louis is ready for school with his books on his lap.

Probably 1926.

"Louis and Highland School friends."

Look how tall he was already. The friends were three of the Hoyt kids: Jeanette, Edward and Josephine.

This was possibly Dad's last year at Highland. The Lynam's moved to Taylor County when Louis was in sixth grade.

Another photo of Dad and a young Leona. I think she is holding an ear of corn. Notice the chickens around the wagon.

I posted this on FB this morning wondering about the wagon. A Western Rager? 

A couple of FB friends pointed out that it was 'Racer' not Rager. I had mistaken the C for a G because of the way the capital C was written.

"Louis age 9 and Leona" written on the back of this one.

(All writing is in Grandma Bessie's hand.)

I like this one of Dad laughing. I look at it and wonder which of his features were passed on to his children.

The one that wasn't, to Mom's relief, was his ears. I, for one, got his big ears, but at least mine don't stick out as his did. (What Mom was grateful for.)

Dad a bit older. Of all his grandchildren the one that most resembles him, in my opinion, is the one he never met - my nephew Ian. He was born after Dad died.

I don't know what Louis needed a suit for, but Grandma has this one labeled: "Suit is a perfect fit. Ha!"

Obviously, just as Mom bought our clothes a bit bigger so we would be able to wear them longer, so did Grandpa and Grandma. Especially when buying something as expensive as a suit.

Grandma Bessie and Louis, August 26, 1920. Dad would have been two years, three months old.

Horse is not identified by name. Note the large bell on the post at the middle right of the picture.

Grandpa George holding Leona with Louis and his dad both wearing their good flat caps and all dressed up.

Again, probably 1926.

And on the same occasion, Grandma Bessie holding Leona and Louis the only one looking at the camera.

I love Grandma's flapper outfit. 

I am so grateful Aunt Leona sent me these photos - even if it did take me twenty years to get them scanned and saved. 💛

And Dream of the Soft Look

 

When You Are Old 

By William Butler Yeats

When you are old and grey and full of sleep,

And nodding by the fire, take down this book,

And slowly read, and dream of the soft look

Your eyes had once, and of their shadows deep;

How many loved your moments of glad grace,

And loved your beauty with love false or true,

But one man loved the pilgrim soul in you,

And loved the sorrows of your changing face;

And bending down beside the glowing bars,

Murmur, a little sadly, how Love fled

And paced upon the mountains overhead

And hid his face amid a crowd of stars.

Still Feeling Guilty

It's funny the memories that last through one's life. I was a junior in highschool, a newly minted driver, possessor of that coveted driver's license. I didn't get to take the family car often but as a member of the Junior class play crew I had to be there every night. So the folks let me drive myself rather ferrying me back and forth.

We had a 1955 4-door, turquoise and cream, Plymouth Savoy like the one pictured above.

One night after play practice, we (and I've forgotten who was with me) just 'had' to scoop the loop. It was a time honored tradition. At first it was driving up and down main street, making a u-turn at the 'top' near the courthouse and at the 'bottom' near the train depot. By the time I was old enough to get a license the u-turn at the top had been outlawed so we had to go up main street and down back street. If any other drivers were doing the same thing it became a game to follow one another.

On this particular night my second cousin (our mothers were first cousins) was also in town driving their family car which was similar to ours only red and white.

I was following him around the loop, going down the back street, when he decided to be silly and started driving erratically. About that time the town cop came out from a side street and lit up his lights. He pulled my cousin over and as I learned later gave him a fine of, the way I remember it, thirty dollars. 

I don't know why I felt guilty that night because I didn't have anything to do with his decision to weave around the street. But I did feel that I had contributed to his actions. If I hadn't been following him it wouldn't have happened. It is a feeling I haven't shaken in all the years since. Maybe I'm just naturally altruistic. 

November - Before Winter

November By Alison Uttley

November is the pearl-gray month,

The changeling between warm crimson October

And cold white December. The month

When the leaves fall in slow drifting whirls,

And the shapes of the trees are revealed.

When the earth imperceptibly wakes,

And stretches her bare limbs

And displays her stubborn unconquerable

Strength before she settles uneasily into winter.

November is secret and silent.

♏☁🌃

All You Got To Do Is Smile That Smile

Here You Come Again

(Written by Barry Mann & Cythia Well. Sung by Dolly Parton)

Here you come again
Just when I've begun to get myself together
You waltz right in the door
Just like you've done before
And wrap my heart 'round your little finger

Here you come again
Just when I'm about to make it work without you
You look into my eyes
And lie those pretty lies
And pretty soon I'm wonderin' how I came to doubt you

All you got to do is smile that smile*
And there go all my defenses
Just leave it up to you and in a little while
You're messin' up my mind and fillin' up my senses

Here you come again
Lookin' better than a body has a right to
And shakin' me up so that all I really know
Is here you come again
And here I go

(*And when you wink at me!)