August 2024 Reading List

And I thought July passed by fast! August has been something of a blur - but I did get seven books read. I dipped back into my own stash of books for these first two.

Milk Glass Moon by Adriana Trigiani was the third in her Big Stone Gap series which takes readers back to mountain life in Virginia and also to Italy. Have you read any books by this author? I've tried to read everything she has written and loved every one.

The Rural Life by Verlyn Klinkenborg is a book friends gave me twenty years ago. I know from the book mark left in it that I started reading it once upon a time but quit. It just didn't grab me. But this time, oh my, I got into it and loved it. There are twelve sections, one for each month. I shared a selection about the 4th of July on my August 12 post. My plan is to give this book to my son Douglas. And if I forget - Doug, come and take it off my book shelf!

The Demon of Unrest is Erik Larson's newest book. It is about Fort Sumter and the events leading up to the beginning of the Civil War. I was struck by the similarities between that time and our own current political divides. Larson's books are always so well written and interesting.

This is what happens when you go to the library without a list of books you want. I just selected five books without any idea what I was getting except for the Jennifer Chiaverini book as I have read many of her's before.  The fifth book will go back unread. I tried to get into it but just could not.

The Last Caretaker by Jessica Strawser is, apparently, one of her books whose theme is domestic violence. The caretaker mentioned in the title unknowingly gets involved in helping women escape and begin new lives. Strawser is a new author for me.

Dream Eyes is by Jayne Ann Krentz, also a first time author for me unless I'd read something of her's many years ago before I started my blog.

The Last Enchantment written by Kristin Hannah also falls into the first time author category. Both Krentz and Hannah are literary names I'm aware of and would have said I'd probably read some of their books, but if I have, they do not show up on my blog. I have read some Amanda Quick books which is another of Krentz's pen names.

Enchantress of Numbers by Jennifer Chiaverini is about the life of Ada Lovelace, English mathematician and writer who contributed to the first computer. I always like Chiaverini's novels because they are based on actual happenings. 

I won't mention the fifth book that I did not finish because I may go back and read it someday. The author's first book was a Pulitzer Prize finalist, winner of the Pen/Hemingway Award and the American Book Award so I really expected to like his second book. I probably missed something that would make it more interesting to me. We'll see....    And I already have a list started for my next library visit - not making that mistake again. 

Late and Missing 1st Day of School Pics

As far as I know all my school age great-grands had their first day of the 2024-25 school year a week ago today. I've delayed posting their 1st day photos in hope that I would have them all by now but I'm still missing grandson Brock's three boys, Ridge, Sawyer and Jack. If I eventually get them I will add to this post.

Great-grandson Rodney is a freshman this year!

Yikes, where does the time go?

He has a car and a school permit so no buses for him.

His little sister Brynley is in second grade. 

She is getting two pictures because I love this one in front of her new school, Abbie Grove. Isn't that a great name for a school?

It is nearer their home. This morning she rode her bike to school.

Maverick and Lily in front of their school.

Maverick is in first grade and Lily is a 7th grader.

Ayden, on the left is in 5th grade.

Greyson is in 4th grade.

Again, how do they grow up so fast?

Bonus photos this year of my grand nieces and nephew who attend schools in North Kansas City.

Maya is a sophomore.

Austin is in 7th grade.

And Keira is in 5th grade.

I had only seen Maya when she was a baby and didn't meet Austin and Keira until they came to my 80th birthday party last fall.

I'm so very happy I finally got to meet them.

And purely for sentimental reasons, my own three children on the first day of school in 1978.

Kari was in 4th grade. Douglas was a junior in highschool and Preston was in 2nd grade.

This was their first day in a new school after we moved back home to SW  Iowa.

It Is Always Sunday There!

I had a message from my e-pal last evening in response to my Saturday's Song blog. Coincidentally she listened to a concert on YouTube Friday afternoon where Lara's Theme was played. She also loved the movie and the music and once had the album and a VHS tape of the movie. Though she no longer has them she does have her copy of The Poems of Doctor Zhivago by Boris Pasternak.

To the best of my recollection I have never read any of his poems. I'm trying to remedy that this morning with this selection.

Sparrow Hills by Boris Pasternak

My kisses across your breast, like water from a jug!
They'll have an end, and soon, our days of summer heat.
Nor shall we every night rise up in trailing dust
The hurdy-gurdy's bellow, stamp and drag our feet.

I've heard about old age. What ominous forebodings!
That no wave will lift again to the stars its hands,
That waters will speak no more; no god in the woods;
No heart within the pools; no life in meadowlands.

O rouse your soul! This frenzied day is yours to have!
It is the world's midday. Why don't you use your eyes?
Look, there's thought upon high hills in seething bubbles
Of heat, woodpeckers, cones and needles, clouds and skies.

Here tracks of city trolleys stop, and further
The pines alone must satisfy. Trams cannot pass.
It is always Sunday there! Plucking little branches,
There the clearing capers, slipping on the grass.

And strewing sunrays, Whitsun, and rambling walks,
The woods will have us say the world was always so:
Conceived like that by forests, hinted to the meadows,
And spilt by clouds as on a chintz design below.

Saturday's Song

Some days there are different tunes playing in my mind. Other days there is only one and I can't get it out of my head. Sometimes that makes me crazy because I'm not particularly fond of the song. But today it is okay because I love what's playing in my mind - the song I have always called Lara's Theme from the 1965 movie Doctor Zhivago.

I also think of the song as Somewhere My Love, which are the first three words of the song. So which is correct? Lara's Theme is the leitmotif of the movie. And yes, I had to look that up. "A leitmotif is a recurrent theme throughout a musical or literary composition, associated with a particular person, idea, or situation." Variations of the Lara's Theme music occur throughout the three hour movie. 

        

Maurice Jarre composed the leitmotif which became the basis of the song Somewhere My Love. The most popular version was recorded by the Ray Conniff Singers.

My memory isn't what it used to be, and I no longer have my vinyl albums, but I believe this is one I had.

 

And I'm certain I had this one - the original sound track of the movie which includes:

Side One: "Overture from Doctor Zhivago; Main Title from Doctor Zhivago; Lara Leaves Yuri; At the Student Cafe; Komarovsky and Lara's Redezvous; Revolution."

Side Two: "Lara's Theme; The Funeral; Sventyski's Waltz; Yuri Escapes; "Tonya Arrives at Varykino; Yuri Writes A Poem For Lara." 

I won't say that I remember all those tracks, but some of them do bring back memories from the movie.  I saw it at the old Holiday Theater on SW 9th Street in Des Moines and was completely  enthralled. I could have sat through all three hours but there was a break half way. It was the first time I had been to a movie that had an intermission. 

Somewhere My Love

Somewhere my love there will be songs to sing
Although the snow covers the hope of Spring
Somewhere a hill blossoms in green and gold
And there are dreams, all that your heart can hold

Someday we'll meet again, my love
Someday whenever the Spring breaks through

You'll come to me, out of the long-ago
Warm as the wind, soft as the kiss of snow
Lara, my own, think of me now and then
Godspeed, my love, till you are mine again

Warm as the wind, soft as the kiss of snow

Godspeed, my love, till you are mine again

I wonder if my memories would hold up if I could see the movie once again. I'm almost certain I would find it just as captivating and romantic as the first time. ♫And there are dreams, all that your heart can hold....♫ 

Changes For Lake McKinley

 

This is a photo of Lake McKinley that I took a few years ago.

And this is one I took this morning from about the same. 

What happened to the water? The lake is being lowered to allow for needed dredging.

This view looks the other direction - toward the spillway. That small pool of water is all that remains.

Plans were to begin the dredging the first part of August but obviously that has been delayed.

This morning Bud came back from his walk around Lake McKinley and told me: "You ought to see all the birds up there!" "What? Just a few days ago you told me there weren't any birds at all."

I was going to try being clever and say "There were probably many committee meetings about renewal plans for the lake, but they probably didn't include a committee of vultures." That got discarded when I double checked myself and saw that a committee of vultures is when they are resting on fence posts or in trees. A wake of vultures is when a group of them is feeding on a carcass - which is what they are doing here - eating all the dead fish. Bud quipped this could be identified as a No Wake Zone. 😄 

A longer view showing the birds as well as just some of the many things thrown in the lake over the years - tires, garbage cans, cement blocks, etc., etc.

More birds. I don't think the Killdeer are feasting on dead fish, but they are finding something to dine on in the mud. They are those whitish spots in the middle of the picture. Click on it to see them better.

Another discard.

I imagine this being a juvenile stunt: "Hey, let's throw this barrel in the lake!"

The bird flying on the left lower third of the picture was one of many swallows darting about.

Work on the lake is expected to last through 2025 with a budget of four million dollars. The project aims are to remove about 300,000 cubic yards of sediment which will allow the lake to be deepened to a maximum of 12 to 15 feet with a main depth of around 8 feet. (It was only about five feet before the lowering of water began.) 

Other plans are adding a fishing pier and small boat/canoe/kayak access. A swimming beach was also mentioned in a previous update, though I do not see that in any current published plans. It will be interesting to watch the steps and, I hope, be around to view the final results.

S.O.G With P.I.P.

 

My granddaughter Katrina sent me this cute photo of great-granddaughter Brynley last night. It was 'meet the teacher night' for second graders. She also promised 'first day of school' pics on Friday. She knows how much I love seeing them.

I started thinking about how different it is now from when my children were young. They didn't always appreciate mom's 'need' for those first day of school pictures. But I insisted they stand on the porch so I could take snapshots. Then it would be days, or weeks, before the roll of film got developed. Now new photos come through in seconds. And everyone's photos are stored on their phones, or in my case my computer because I don't have a smart phone. I'm too tech challenged to learn how to use one. 

Remembering how it used to be dredged up the memory of a small photo book many grandmas used to carry in their purses.

"Ask me about my grandchildren" brought out their 'Silly Old Grandmother With Pictures In Purse' album.

I didn't have grandchildren yet at that time, but I did buy a photo album for my mother.

The purse sized album I did have and carry in my purse was this one from 1960. It was just the right size for all those senior photos we exchanged among classmates. 

There were a few underclassmen represented in my book - their photos would fit two to a page.

When I think about it, I also had quite a few pictures from friends and relatives who graduated before me.

I may not have one of those albums like the first one I mentioned, but I guess I actually am a S.O.G.With P.I.P because I do have two photos in my purse. 

On the left, Ayden and Greyson (2019) and on the right, Louis (2022). 

Whether seeing them in person or in pictures, my great-grands always bring me joy.

Addendum: When I mentioned the first day of school photos yesterday at the beginning of this post, I was thinking about this photo of my three many, many years ago on their first day of school in Johnston.

This morning the photo showed up in my FB memories. 😊

As Free As The Wind Blows

 

If you hear the words 'born free' do you picture a lion and then think of the movie based on Joy Adamson's book? 

Then do you hear the music and words to the Academy Award winning theme song written for that 1966 movie? I do.

But if I just read the lyrics, I see another interpretation, one from my youth and how I was fortunate enough to be born free.

Not only in a country of freedom, but just as important, on a farm with all the freedom to explore that world. My world.

There's the house, as it looked when I was young - up until the time the front porch was enclosed and those three living room windows were replaced.

Here is the lane my sister and I walked down to the pasture to bring the cows up to that big barn for milking.

And there's the hog house roof we climbed up on and below it the stock tank we played in as often as we could get away with it - out of Mom's sight.

This is Dad's team of horses, Rex and Dolly and our pony Queenie in the field 'over east'. I remember the first time Betty and I went that far alone and explored the little ditch of water that ran between the corn field and hay field. It was like a brand new magical kingdom. One we hadn't been to but were free to visit.

Once Dad bought that buggy from a neighbor, our explorations ranged even farther - though more often the horse and buggy conveyed us to the hay field or oats field where the threshing machine was set up. We were the 'water girls'. On the storage rack behind the seat, jugs of ice cold water were arrayed. Our job was to take them around the field to the men. One guy always asked if we had any lemonade. We didn't know his name so we called him 'Lemonade'.

I don't know at what age I learned to milk the cows, but I did my share of milking.

Mostly Dad and Ron did it or Dad and Mom. But when Dad and Ron were in the field, it was me and Mom. We had nine or ten milk cows. Mom milked much faster than I did. She would milk five or six cows and then come finish the fourth one I was on.

Some of the same cows but also some stock cows. They were the ones we didn't milk. Their calves increased the herd if they were heifers or sold if they were steers.

The large tree on the left was a Maple, one of our climbing trees, the others were a grove of Catalpa trees.

Born Free Lyrics

Born free
As free as the wind blows
As free as the grass grows
Born free to follow your heart

Live free
And beauty surrounds you
The world still astounds you
Each time you look at a star

Stay free
Where no walls divide you
You're free as a roaring tide so there's no need to hide

Born free
And life is worth living
But only worth living
'Cause you're born free

Stay free
Where no walls divide you
You're free as a roaring tide so there's no need to hide
Born free
And life is worth living
But only worth living
'Cause you're born free

I was so very fortunate to be born free - to the time, place and parents that I was. 💛

A One Hundred and Ten-Year-Old Poem

 

When I think of Carl Sandburg poems the first that comes to mind is Fog because that is the one my grade school teacher read to us and then led in discussing its symbolism and meaning. 

Knowing me and my way of thinking, I probably thought something like: "But how can that be a poem? It doesn't rhyme."

The fog comes on little cat feet. It sits looking over harbor and city on silent haunches and then moves on.

Something about it stuck because I've never forgotten it. As I got older I could appreciate what a wonderful picture its brevity portrayed.

If you can make it out, you will see other poems by Sandburg listed on this cover......including....

At A Window

Give me hunger,

O you gods that sit and give

The world its orders.

Give me hunger, pain and want,

Shut me out with shame and failure

From your doors of gold and fame,

Give me your shabbiest, weariest hunger!

But leave me a little love,

A voice to speak to me in the day end,

A hand to touch me in the dark room

Breaking the long loneliness.

In the dusk of day-shapes

Blurring the sunset,

One little wandering, western star

Thrust out from the changing shores of shadow.

Let me go to the window,

Watch there the day-shapes of dusk

And wait and know the coming

Of a little love. 

Because of his gritty Chicago poems like the one entitled Chicago that begins with the first line: Hog Butcher for the world, I never thought of Sandburg as a romantic poet. At A Window gives me a different perspective of him - and prompts me to read more of his poetry.

(This photo of the last quarter of the crescent moon (upper right) and Venus (middle left) is one I took four years ago on this date.)

Means Memories

 Old postcard from eBay showing the band shell and stage in McKinley Park, Creston, Iowa.

I was driving down the east side of McKinley the other day, glancing into the park grounds when I had a memory of going to the Means family picnic there with my grandparents 70+ years ago.  It was just Grandpa and Grandma Ridnour and me and a whole bunch of people I did not know. I remember walking over to a shelter with them and putting the picnic basket on a table. There were some kids around my age and Grandma tried introducing me to them thinking I would have someone my to play with. But I was very shy and wanted to stay near the only two people I knew. The only other thing I remember about that day was that I was glad when it was over and I remembered some woman named Zoah.

This photo of five Means cousins was taken years before that picnic, but could have been at a previous Means reunion. Left to right, Ethel, Zoah, Delphia, Blanch and Jessie. All five of these girls' fathers were brothers. Zoah's nephew Harrison was a high school classmate of mine. He could have been one of the other kids that Grandma Delphia introduced me to at the picnic. I did once ask him if his family went to the Means reunions and he said they did go to some of them.

This Means family photo dates to 1939. I know because those two babies were my cousins Glen and Larry Roberts. Glen was born in January, 1939 and Larry in September, 1937. Front row, left to right, Lloyd Perryman and his wife Drothel Means Perryman, George Means and wife Matilda Lippincott Means, Evelyn Ridnour Roberts holding her son Glen and Lois Ridnour Mitchell holding her nephew Larry. Back row, left to right, Orphas Means, Joe Ridnour and his wife Delphia Means Ridnour, Howard Roberts and my mother, Ruth Ridnour Lynam far right. Orphas, Drothel and Delphia were the children of George and Matilda Means. Evelyn, Ruth and Lois were the daughters of Joe and Delphia Ridnour. 

George Means was one of eleven children, seven of them sons. Those men married and had numerous children, many of them sons and so on down the line. So if I meet anyone in southwest Iowa with the name Means, it's almost a given that we are related. One of Grandma Delphia's Means cousins was named Basil which I thought was unusual enough. Then on the family tree I saw his middle name was Wan. Basil Wan Means. I did not see anyone he might have been named after. Could his parents have heard the name Juan, liked it, and spelled it the way it sounded?

I can not mention the Means without also thinking about the Lippincotts as great-grandma Matilda was a Lippincott. Her parents were referred to in the Adams County History Book as "two of the more colorful personalities in Mount Etna". And of the photos the person who wrote that shared was the two of them smoking their clay pipes. I've previously shared that photo as well as one of the Mt. Etna Mill they operated.

This is a studio portrait of  great-great grandpa David.

And this is one of great-great grandma Kate.

I thought I had posted them before, but do not find that I have.

Just recently I found this photo of a much younger David Lippincott - shared on Family Search by some other family member also hooked on genealogy.

I never think about these long ago many times great grandparents of mine without wondering just what genes, traits, and bit of personality they passed on to me. 

Summer's Over After the 4th of July

I remember my mother saying: "After the 4th of July, summer is over." What? We still had almost two months before school started. 

As I got older I realized what Mom meant. With all the work on the farm - threshing, baling hay, cutting oats, canning corn, beans, tomatoes and everything else from the garden - summer went by very fast. Squeeze in getting new shoes and some new clothes for school and summer was over.

This book was given to me by friends twenty years ago. I know I started to read it once because I left a bookmark in it at page 17. It just wasn't doing it for me. Too bland, uninteresting.... something was missing.

Apparently what was missing was my attention because when I started reading it last night I realized how beautiful these essays are.

This is how eloquently the author expands upon just what my mother said about the 4th of July.....

"From solstice till equinox, summer lasts only ninety-one days and six hours, a little longer if you count from Memorial Day till Labor Day. It seems like so much time. But the closer you get, the smaller summer looks, unlike winter, which looks longer and longer the nearer it comes. From a distance -- from April say -- summer looks as capacious as hope. This will be the season we lose weight, eat well, work out, raise a garden, learn to kayak, read Proust, paint the house, drive to Glacier, and so on and so on and so on. This will be the season in which time stretches before us like the recesses of space itself, the season in which leisure swells like a slow tomato, until it's round and red and ripe.

By the time Memorial Day comes and goes, flashing across the year like a meteor in the night sky, a certain realism creeps in. The universe expands but not the calendar. Only August remains infinite. June and part of July are already booked solid, and the trouble with that is that once an event is penciled in it's already over. The festival tickets you bought in April, when summer still had all its weekends, now haunt you with regret. The search for uncommited time grows more and more desperate. The peonies are nearly past, and before long the goldenrod will bloom. The field-crickets are already ticking away the seconds of full summer.

It's enough to make a person crazy, that dream of a summer where dawn is as cool as the ocean and the time in which you happen to live, the day and the hour itself, overlaps with all of the rest of time. Everyone reaches for fullness in summer, but the fullness that most of us know best belongs to the memory of childhood. What was it that made summer days so long back then and made the future seem so distant? What was the thing we knew or didn't know?"

The Iowa State Fair is about half over already.

Then the new school year starts.

And Labor Day comes ..... and goes...

Summer will be over - just that quickly.

Fasting & Other Weight Loss Schemes

I don't know why I started thinking about weight loss this morning but I did. I was probably slightly overweight as a child. After all, I did grow up on the farm where we had plenty of  food and desserts made with whole milk, cream and real butter, plus my mother was an excellent cook. By the time I got to highschool I was more aware of my figure - you know - more peers = more pressure. I weighed between 130 - 135 pounds and it helped that I was 5"8-1/2" tall.

Then I got married and pregnant. Suddenly I didn't have to worry about being overweight because I was going to get big anyway. I ate much more than I needed to. My favorite lunch was a cheeseburger deluxe, french fries and a coke followed by a strawberry malt. I easily gained 30 pounds which took a while to lose but I did get back under 140 lbs. Five years later, after the stress of divorce, being a single parent and moving across the state for a better job and attending college at night, I lost down to 127 lbs. - the least I have ever weighed since.

This photo of me was taken when I was 31 - after two more children and another divorce. I was again around 135 pounds and thought I had to lose more. That was when I tried fasting on the weekends - nothing but water.

We lived on an acreage with a huge yard to mow. I specifically remember one hot summer weekend, fasting, mowing (by hand, no riding lawn mower) and almost passing out. 

Maybe fasting wasn't the answer. 😓 

I managed to stay in the 135 - 145 range the next 15 or so years, then I hit middle-age. If you are a woman, you know what that means - you gain weight even when you're trying not to. I got up to almost 200 lbs. I type that and still can hardly believe it. After age 60, the weight slowly began coming off. 

In early 2018 when I decided I was going to have knee replacement in the fall, I began actively trying to lose 25 to 30 pounds. I was 167 pounds in January; surgery would be in October. The first month I lost seven pounds. By the end of February I had lost another five pounds. Once I started losing weight, it got easier. By the end of March I was celebrating losing 20 pounds! By May 11, I was down to 145 pounds. Then the yo-yoing began. By my annual physical at the doctor's office I weighed 141 with a BMI of 23.

This photo of me was taken the latter part of July. I didn't lose quite as much weight before surgery as I wanted to, but post surgery I started losing again and got down to 137 pounds. My husband told me I looked frail. For the first time in my life I started trying to gain weight. It didn't take me too long. Ha!

I stayed around 156 lbs. until my "life-flighting" accident in June, 2023. I lost down to 142 lbs. and have stayed there ever since - although I probably look heavier because I'm no longer 5'- 8 1/2". 😒

I mentioned weight-loss schemes in my title - one of the best ways, for me, to lose weight was "time-of-day" eating. I stopped eating at 4:00 p.m. - nothing until the next morning. That made it so easy for me. 

Some older women gain weight. If I take after my mother, and I expect I will, more weight loss is in my future. 

One Day In August

Today's blog started out only as a posting of another Mary Oliver poem - which I will get to - but first, an olio of thoughts about today, the past, and the month. 

First, front and center, is a photo of my Grandma Lynam holding my youngest child, Preston, in August, 1971. Today is his 53rd birthday. I had not calculated it before, but Grandma was the same age (80) then as I am now. 

If I could figure out how to do it, I could show a side-by-side comparison - Great-grandma Bessie with Preston and Great-grandma Ramona with Henri. 

I have many photos of my son and I together at all ages. This is one of my favorites of us as adults.

It was taken probably ten or more years ago when we visited him one day at work.

I've always loved the bemused expression on his face.

On the local news yesterday there was a shot of all the pink lilies blooming in West Des Moines. I thought that was interesting because mine hadn't bloomed yet.

Then early this a.m. when I went out - Surprise!

There's a reason one of the names for this member of the amaryllis family is the Surprise Lily. Others are Resurrection Lily and my favorite, Naked Ladies.

Now the poem....

Swimming, One Day In August 

By Mary Oliver

It is time now, I said,
for the deepening and quieting of the spirit
among the flux of happenings.

Something had pestered me so much
I thought my heart would break.
I mean, the mechanical part.

I went down in the afternoon
to the sea
which held me, until I grew easy.

About tomorrow, who knows anything.
Except that it will be time, again,
for the deepening and quieting of the spirit.

It wasn't the sea I was reminded of swimming in - though I remember how easy it was to swim in the Caribbean Sea due to the buoyancy of the salt water - but the beach at Lake Icaria in 1980. 

That summer was so hot, with temps at or above 100° for many days, that as soon as I got home from work, I would pull together some picnic food and Preston and Kari and I would head for the lake - where we stay until the sun was going down - trying to stay cool in the water.

Like Oliver, there was something pestering my heart at that time.

Lastly, in this hodgepodge first blog of the month, is a comment about the new photo in my header. I took it south of town along the High and Dry Road in August a few years ago.

I had labeled it: "August: Union County". I wonder if anyone got my tongue in cheek reference to the movie. (August: Osage County) 😎