Family Before Fireworks

We have two great-grandsons whose birthdays are June 30, Greyson, 10, and July 1, Ayden, 11, which makes them both ten years old for one day. 

Because their birthdays are close to the 4th of July celebrating them and Independence Day is usually combined.

It is always such a joy to see the little ones and mark how they have changed. Great-grandson, Henri, here with his mother, Kathryn, is the whose growth is most apparent. Last time we saw him he wasn't walking, now he is. And he just gets cuter and more personable each time we see him.

Henri's big brother, Louis, and his Dad, Travis, were enjoying some age appropriate fireworks.

Louis not only showed me his 'poppers', he shared one with me.

They didn't have to be lit, only thrown on pavement to POP.

Ten year old Greyson, always ready with a smile and hug.

 Ayden and Greyson playing in the water.

Louis and Henri doing the same thing. The slip and slide was new and they were all making the most of it.

The high temperatures and sunshine were perfect for their play.

Then Aunt Dominique got in on it.

I think she had as much fun - or more - than the boys did.

While all the fun was going on outside, Dominique's husband Ian was working away installing new ceiling tiles in his in-law's dining room.

I don't think there is much this guy can't do, and he does it willingly.

I think the young ones were going to move the fun to a pool, but it was time for the old folks to go home.

We live close enough to McKinley Lake/Park to see the fireworks from our deck.

Neither of us are big fireworks fans, see a few and that's enough. 

I took this picture through the window. 

Another birthday and 4th of July celebration in the books. 

Using Water To Make Pudding

I planned to take a couple of salads to the family 4th of July gathering tomorrow - my cauliflower and pea salad and lemon jello with crushed pineapple and mandarin oranges. Monday I bought what I needed. Yesterday I put together the pea salad except for the cheese because that doesn't get added until shortly before eating.

This morning I made the jello so it could partially set before adding the fruit.

While the water was heating, two boxes of jello went into a large bowl. I poured in two cups of boiling water and began stirring.

That's funny, the jello is already beginning to thicken.

 

That was when I realized I had purchased lemon pudding and pie filling, not gelatin.

At least I hadn't opened the cans of pineapple and oranges yet. 

Yes, I could have gone back to the store and gotten Jello gelatin, but didn't. I had said I would bring a salad or two. So one it is. Sorry kids.

In the meantime, I tasted the pudding mixture made with water instead of milk. It wasn't bad at all; edible in fact. Good to know in case I want pudding sometime and am out of milk.

I've known for some time now that I need to check and then double check everything I do before doing it. But really, those boxes look much alike, don't they? 

Hope you have a happy and safe 4th. For certain no one will be putting me in charge of the fireworks!   🎆🎇

The Path

 

The Path Through Dune and Memory (Kevin McManus)

The wind does not forget this place—

a whispering tongue in brittle grass,

where footsteps fade but never vanish,

etched in the lean of withered dune.

She walks the crooked, salt-blown path

as if returning from a dream,

the hem of night clinging to her coat,

hair swept like smoke toward forgotten skies.

Above, the crows rise in a scattered psalm,

a black benediction cast in flight.

They do not mourn, not truly—

only echo what has passed beneath.

No names are spoken here aloud,

only thought, half-formed and frail

like the bones of sea-washed driftwood

that line the trail with silent grace.

And still she walks—

not forward, not quite back,

but into that thin, wind-worn space

where the dead speak softest

and the living listen best

Kevin McManus is an Irish poet.

The photo is one I took on South Padre Island.

June '25 Books

 Only six books read this month.

Tell Me by Lisa Jackson is a book I picked up at a garage sale. It was an okay murder mystery, but not great.

Three Days in June by Anne Tyler is a warm, witty, and wise story about second chances. Tyler's books are always great. 

The World's Fair Quilt by Jennifer Chiaverini is the latest novel in her Elm Creek Quilts series. The story alternates between present day and the 1933 Chicago World's Fair. Sisters Sylvia and Claudia Bergstrom decide to enter a quilt in the Sears National Quilt Contest which is part of the Worlds' Fair.

I have only read some of the Elm Creek Quilts series preferring Chiaverini's historical novels, but I did enjoy this book. I totally understood the rivalry between the two sisters. It reminded me of my own with my sister.

Thick As Thieves and ricochet are two more of the Sandra Brown mysteries I've been working my way through. 

Yesterday was the 125th anniversary of  the birth of Antoine de Saint-Exupéry which prompted me to reread The Little Prince - this one the 50th anniversary edition gifted me by my daughter on my 50th birthday. It has been years since my last reading - I had forgotten a lot. 

Summer is definitely upon us. I hope you are enjoying your summer days. 😊

The Ceremonies Of Our Passage

 "The most beautiful things in the world cannot be seen or touched, they are felt with the heart." (Antoine de Saint-Exupéry, The Little Prince)

Today is the quasquicentennial (125th) anniversary of the birth of Antoine de Saint-Exupéry, author of The Little Prince - a book high on the list of my favorites but the only one of his books I've read. I had not realized he also wrote poetry - until today....

Generation To Generation

In a house which becomes a home,

one hands down and another takes up

the heritage of mind and heart,

laughter and tears, musings and deeds.

Love, like a carefully loaded ship,

crosses the gulf between the generations.

Therefore, we do not neglect the ceremonies

of our passage: when we wed, when we die,

and when we are blessed with a child;

When we depart and when we return;

When we plant and when we harvest.

Let us bring up our children. It is not

the place of some official to hand to them

their heritage.

If others impart to our children our knowledge

and ideals, they will lose all of us that is

wordless and full of wonder.

Let us build memories in our children,

lest they drag out joyless lives,

lest they allow treasures to be lost because

they have not been given the keys.

We live, not by things, but by the meanings

of things. It is needful to transmit the passwords

from generation to generation.

--Antoine de Saint-Exupery

My first copy of The Little Prince looked like this:

I got it in the 1970's and hope I still have it somewhere though I can't put my hands on it right now. It is, I hope, in one of my boxes of books around here.

In 1993 this 50th anniversary edition of The Little Prince was released and I received a copy of it from my daughter because .....

....it was also the 50th anniversary of my birth.

And now, more than 80 years later, his warning rings truer, and louder, than ever. If you've never read The Little Prince, read it.

"It is only with the heart that one can see rightly; what is essential is invisible to the eye."

Why I Always Keep Ginger Ale on Hand

I'm posting this in case there are others who have the same problem I have, which is swallowing food - mostly meat, bread and raw carrots. It may or may not run in families, but my Mother had it and so does one of my great-grandsons, so it is not just an age related problem, though it seems mine didn't get really bad until I was older.

About a year ago I was eating a carrot and it got stuck on the way down. I tried to drink water, but could not even swallow that. I tried doing the finger down the throat to bring it back up and that didn't work. I wasn't choking, I just could not swallow. 

This went on for several hours. All I could do as the saliva built up was spit it out. I had just about decided I had to go to the ER and hope they could help me when Bud thought about seeing what the internet might suggest. Whether it said soda, carbonation or Ginger Ale, he suggested I try the Ginger Ale I had to see if I could swallow that. It worked! What was stuck went down. I was so relieved. 😌

How it works or why it works, I don't know and don't care - it just does! A sandwich is still what gives me the most problem, but all I have to do is drink some Ginger Ale and I'm fine.

This may seem like a strange thing to blog about, but if it helps even one other person, it is worth it. 😌

Everly Jane Is Growing Up

Our youngest great-grandchild was a month old the last time we saw her. So when grandson Devin said they would like to come down to see us this weekend, I was happily surprised.

I had seen photos and videos of her online, but that's not the same as seeing her in person. 

What a cute, happy little girl she is.

So much personality.

Me, grandson Devin, his wife Jessica and Everly.

The little ones grow and change so fast. I can't play with them as I did with my grandchildren, but I do love being around the great-grands.

This picture was going to be the "meeting of the minds" -  Everly and great-grandpa Bud with the two of them looking at each other and touching foreheads, but I didn't take the photo fast enough. 

While we were eating lunch, Everly crawled under the table.

It was something of a full circle moment for me. I remember playing under Grandpa & Grandma Lynam's table when I was about five or six. 

More than three-quarters of a century later, there was another little girl doing the same thing under the same table.

Youngest grandchild and youngest great-grandchild.  It was so nice to spend time with them. 

The Last of the Peasant Skirts

I missed out on the hippie peasant skirts during the 1960's (though I did wear bell-bottomed jeans) - instead I went all in on mini skirts.

I had a 3 pc. suit like this one - only mine was sunshine yellow. The first time I wore it to work Mom saw me walking toward the post office. She was appalled by the shortness of the skirt - then doubly dismayed when she realized it was her daughter wearing it. 

But I loved that suit as well as all my other mini skirts. Twenty some years later and the skirt lengths had moved to below the knee - more mid-calf and longer. I liked those lengths, too. Perhaps because I was older, but the long skirts really were my all time favorites. So much so that you can still find several of them hanging in my closet - though I seldom wear them. 

Denim was my favored fabric. I had a denim dress and several denim skirts. Yep, they're still in my closet too. The nostalgia for those times keep me from donating them.

Then there were my peasant skirts. I had so many of them - all prints except for two single color - one black and one bottle green. I liked their softness and the swishy feel of them. They were casual and laid back. Those I have donated, except for this one.  Other than to a wedding or two, I only wear slacks or jeans now, keeping a few skirts just in case.

The last time I wore my peasant skirt was to Xmas in July in 2018. Almost all my children, spouses, grandchildren and great-grandchildren were there. We had a great time.

Here I am pictured with my step-son's partner, Juliet, and my daughter Kari.

There was one final family Christmas in July the following year - a pool party at Grandaughter Katrina's. 

Then Covid changed everything.

May '25 Books

Only seven books read this month. Too much time and money spent on plants? 😍

Fat Tuesday, Chill Factor and Blind Tiger are all by Sandra Brown an author I decided to read my way through.

The Shell Collector is a book of short stories by Anthony Doerr. This book is from my own collection, but one I hadn't read for years. Doerr is one of the most impressive authors I've read. His prose is beautifully exquisite.

The Girl on the Cliff and The Lavender Garden by Lucinda Riley are both books I read several years ago - long enough that they were almost new to me. Both worthy of a second read.

Doctor Zhivago by Boris Pasternak is a classic. With the impression the 1965 movie made upon me and the fact my love of the story has never diminished, you would think that I might have read this book before now. Had I? I wasn't even sure, but I had not. 

In February I read Lara Prescott's novel, The Secrets We Kept, about smuggling Pasternak's manuscript out of Russia and into print. That was the impetus I needed to finally read Dr. Zhivago. The hardest part was keeping all the Russian names straight. Almost always, I like the book better than the movie. In this case, the impressions the movie made on a younger me cannot top the book. 

I've yet to compile a list of the books I want to read in June, but I have a few a mind. Happy summertime reading to all.  😎 🌞

Decoration Day

For the first time, that I remember, we only made it to three cemeteries this year - Lenox, Prairie Rose and Quincy. Even when we lived in WDM, I always 'came home' on Memorial weekend. First to take my Mom and Grandma Delphia to the cemeteries and then, when they were gone, to decorate their graves, too. Grandma once said: "I know you will decorate my grave, but who will decorate yours?" ((I'm sorry, Grandma, but I didn't make it to your's and Grandpa Joe's this year.) 

With the increase in prices and the dearth of artificial flowers (probably caused by Trump's tariffs), there was very little decorating done. 

I only had two artificial bouquets - the white one behind my parents' stone and a smaller version between sister's and nephew's gravestones.

There was one other couple nearby while we were there. Surprisingly, I recognized the woman even though she was wearing sunglasses and I hadn't seen her in 45 years. Tentatively I said, "Marcia"? I told her my name then we had a nice 'catching up' visit. Our families had both been part of the Fairview Church neighborhood in the 1950's. 

At Quincy, I left some cut peonies on Grandma & Grandpa Lynam's grave and those of their two daughters, Evelyn and Leona. I can guess who placed the sunflowers. Grandma's grandniece recently retired and moved back to Corning. I'm sure it was her. She thought the world of 'Aunt Bessie'.

Even though it was a comparatively short journey and I was glad to be back home, it would not have felt right if I'd missed Decoration Day. 🌼🌻🌺

April '25 Books

It seems as though the months spin around so fast. The middle two weeks of April found us both incapacitated with extreme fatigue and a persistent cough. I didn't feel like doing anything else, but at least I could read. Ten books read this month.

Rainwater by Sandra Brown is the first book of her's that I've read. Early on I got her confused with Sandra Dallas whose books I loved and quickly read my way through. For some reason that put me off trying any of the Sandra Brown books - but I am now.

First Lie Wins is Ashley Elston's first adult novel - also one of Reese's Book Club picks.

Society of Lies is Lauren Ling Brown's debut novel and also one of Reese's Book Club picks. Seeing a pattern here?

Romantic Comedy by Curtis Sittenfeld is, you guessed it, another Reese's pick. You may recall I said I was going to read my way through her book club picks. 

To Die For is by David Baldacci - one of my favorite authors. He is so popular it is several months before I get a chance to read his newest book. The library got it in November, so it was six months I waited - but so worth it!

The Testaments was the last Margaret Atwood book I had yet to read. It is a sequel to The Handmaid's Tale, which was my least favorite Atwood read. I only read the sequel because Atwood is such a good writer.

I Capture the Castle by Dodie Smith was her first novel written in 1948. It is a book from my own shelves and had been years since I first read it. I had not realized she also wrote The Hundred and One Dalmations.

The Perfect Divorce by Jeneva Rose is the first book of her's I've read. This was a very good suspense story with lots of twists and turns.

Michael Connelly is another of my favorite authors. The Waiting is his sixth Harry Bosch and Renée Ballard novel.

All The Colors Of The Dark by Chris Whitaker is the second book of his that I've read. It is a mystery, a thriller and a love story.  It, along with the Baldacci and Connelly books were my favorites this month.

April is ending on a high note - catkins on the birches, willows and oaks, green, green, green everywhere, three Canada geese couples with goslings around the pond with one more still nesting and birds, birds, birds everywhere, including a pair of robins intent upon building their nest on top of our front door light. I haven't seen it yet, but I heard a wren and am on the lookout for our first hummingbird.

Tomorrow - May Day. Do the kids still leave May baskets, ring the door bell and run away, hoping, or fearing, to be caught and kissed?

It doesn't matter what else is happening, Mother Nature still reliably brings the beauty of Spring.

April showers are a big part of all the greening going on. 

Let the rain sing to you.

April Rain Song By Langston Hughes

Let the rain kiss you

Let the rain beat upon your head with silver liquid drops

Let the rain sing you a lullaby

The rain makes still pools on the sidewalk

The rain makes running pools in the gutter

The rain plays a little sleep song on our roof at night

And I love the rain.

Cogito, ergo sum

"I think, therefore I am."   René Descartes

I Sit Beside the Fire and Think

  By: J.R.R. Tolkien

I sit beside the fire and think of all that I have seen

Of meadow flowers and butterflies in summers that have been

Of yellow leaves and gossamer in autumns that there were

With morning mist and silver sun and wind upon my hair

I sit beside the fire and think of how the world will be

When winter comes without a spring that I shall never see

For still there are so many things that I have never seen

In every wood in every spring there is a different green

I sit beside the fire and think of people long ago

And people that will see a world that I shall never know

But all the while I sit and think of time there were before

I listen for returning feet and voices at the door

A Nostalgic Rabbit Hole

 

It has happened again. A daily jigsaw puzzle pulled me down a rabbit hole....this one of the Casa de Mateus in Vila Real Portugal. 

Just the mention of Mateus has the power to take me back more than fifty years. It was my first and favorite wine.

I new I had blogged about it before and didn't want to repeat.

A search of past blogs about wine led me to the one from September 2, 2012.

As soon as I saw the photo of me with my dear friend Kristina the words miss you, miss you, miss you formed in my mind.

It is a poem I have previously posted. That one was about missing my mother. (November 16, 2012) 

Interesting - both posts from 2012.

Time for me to get on with my day.... but first another read of David Cory's poem:

 Miss You

Miss you, miss you, miss you;
Everything I do
Echoes with the laughter
And the voice of You.
You're on every corner,
Every turn and twist,
Every old familiar spot
Whispers how you're missed.

Miss you, miss you, miss you!
Everywhere I go
There are poignant memories
Dancing in a row.
Silhouette and shadow
Of your form and face,
Substance and reality
Everywhere displace.

Oh, I miss you, miss you!
God! I miss you, Girl!
There's a strange, sad silence
'Mid the busy whirl,
Just as tho' the ordinary
Daily things I do
Wait with me, expectant
For a word from You.

 Miss you, miss you, miss you!
Nothing now seems true
Only that 'twas heaven
Just to be with You.

  

Celebrating From One to Ninety

 

Our youngest great-grandson, Henri, is now one year old.

He wasn't sure just what he was supposed to do with his 'smash' cake. With a little prompting he did finally get his hands into it.

At this point I think he was getting tired. He changes so much every time I see him, which isn't often. 

Henri shared his big day with his great-grandfather Pete, pictured here with his daughter Shalea.

I didn't think about it until we were on our way home, but we really should have gotten a photo of Henri and Pete together.

This cake was for both of them - "Happy 1st Henri"; Happy 90th Pete".

While Henri napped, big brother Louis participated in a chilly Easter Egg Hunt....

....along with cousins Ayden and Greyson.

Ninety eggs were hidden - 30 for each of the boys.

They were still looking for the final two or three when we left.

Somehow we even ended up with an egg.

Bud put it back for the boys to find after the picture was taken.

It was so nice to see everyone and help celebrate two very special birthdays.

I'm so grateful I felt like going.  Being with the little ones always makes me happy. And catching up with my adult grandchildren does too.

March '25 Books

 Ten books read this month.

Big Fish: A Novel of Mythic Proportions by Daniel Wallace was sent to me by my son Douglas.

The Christie Affair by Nina de Gramont is about the 11-day disappearance of Agatha Christie in 1926.

Fatal Intrusion is a collaboration between Jeffery Deaver and Isabella Maldonado. I've read a number of Deaver's books but none of Maldonado's. This was a good, well written, crime novel.

The Grey Wolf is Louise Penny's latest (#19) in her Inspector Gamache series. She is one of my favorite authors. He is one of my favorite characters.

The Country of the Painted Firs by Sarah Orne Jewett was first published in 1896. I do not remember when I read the book the first time. I just remember how much I liked it and how impressed I was that a book written that long ago held up over the years. This edition, with wonderful illustrations by Douglas Alvord, was published in 2000. 

I have my own version of the painted firs. Various photos of which I've shared on FB many times.

Eleanor Oliphant is completely fine by Gail Honeyman, a new author for me. I really liked this unaware, socially inept, character. 

The Comfort of Crows, A Backyard Year by Margaret Renkl is the only non-fiction book on this month's list. Described as "a literary devotional: fifty-two chapters that follow the creatures and plants in her backyard over the course of a year". This book makes me very grateful for the time and place I grew up in and extremely sad for what has happened in/to our world since the 1940's-'50's. What happens when all the pollinators are gone? This was one of the most caring and beautifully illustrated* books I've read. (*One for each of the 52 chapters by the author's artist brother, Billy Renkl.)

The Wilds by Sarah Pearse is another of her Detective Elin Warner mysteries. 

Infinite Country is the first book I've read by Patricia Engel. It is an all to familiar story of a Columbian family separated by borders and deportation. Stories like this are hard for me to read, but, I feel, an important reminder to keep in mind those less fortunate.

By Any Other Name is Jodi Picoult's newest novel. It is the story of two women, centuries apart, who are determined to realize their dreams of writing poetry and plays regardless of the prejudices against them. I've said it before, any book by this author is good reading, no matter the subject matter.

All in all, another month of good reads. 

How Green Was My Valley

 

A nice rain (a third of an inch) and overnight, it seems, everything is greening. It looks like spring, but the temperature feels more like late winter.

My post title refers to the 1941 movie. I was going to post the photo of me in front of the typical Irish cottage constructed for the movie until I realized, wrong movie! 

It was the 1952 movie, The Quiet Man, not How Green Was My Valley that was set in Ireland. How Green Was My Valley was set in Wales. 

But Maureen O'Hara starred in them both. Perhaps I may be excused for my confusion.

The willows are also showing some green.

As are some of the other volunteer trees along the railroad right of way.

This area is such good habitat for the birds and other creatures that I enjoy seeing.

Yesterday I made a start at cleaning off the flower beds. It only took about 12-15 feet to rake up enough leaves to fill one 39 gallon black plastic bag. A good start, but enough for the first effort. It used to take me only a couple hours to do it all, now I have to pace myself.

But oh, it felt so good to be working outside. To quote Margaret Atwood: "In the Spring, at the end of the day, you should smell like dirt."  💚