What's Wrong With This Picture?

There's really nothing wrong with this picture. The sun is shining. I like the shadows on the snow and ice. If there is anything wrong with a picture it is in these:

Posted by my brother, Les. He and Susan are at the Iberostar Paraiso Maya near Cancun, Mexico.

While son Douglas and wife Shelly are on St. John, U.S. Virgin Islands. Sun, sand, beaches. FEBRUARY! Nope. Nothing wrong.

I could be here. In Arizona visiting my niece in Flagstaff, my brother-in-law in Benson and our friend Kristina in Tucson. I could be walking with her in this arroyo behind her house, picking up rocks.
We talked about it again this week while the snow was flying and the temps remained COLD.
But honestly, I just don't get excited about traveling anymore. It used to be if I even heard a whisper of the words, let's go, I was packing my suitcase.

I told Bud if we only have one or two more long trips in our future, I'd rather go here....

....back to Portland to spend time with Kari and Ken; to take the 'Northern' route again and see more of North Dakota, Montana, Washington. To do it when the weather is nice and when we're not in a hurry going or coming.
Kari took this photo this morning of Mt. Hood silhouetted in the sunrise. When we were talking Sunday morning and I told her how I felt about a trip, she got all excited thinking about us visiting them again. I told her it wasn't anything definite, yet. But after seeing her photo.....?

....or back to here. I know Bud wouldn't mind visiting his son again. As much as I love my extended family and friends, shouldn't we be spending our time with our children as much as possible?

I may not get as enthused about traveling as I used to, but once I'm on the road again I can succumb to its temptations.

Admitting It

I saw this on a tweet this morning that had been shared from the original post by the Framingham, MA Public Library. Their quote: "Admit it, we've all asked this question at one point or another."

Not only did it make me chuckle, I knew I was guilty. Time to admit it. And the time I remember most clearly was when we were still living in West Des Moines and Kari was working at Barnes and Noble in Clive.

"There's this book I'm looking for. I don't remember the title, but the cover was red. Or blue, or gold.....it was sort of a romance, but not really...." Would I have asked anyone else to help me look for that book? Or did I feel okay about looking dumb because it was my daughter? Oh, yes, she was used to such questions. She might even remember the title of the book I was looking for.

I still have some problems finding specific books. Most recently, hunting through the stacks by the author's last name. Not on the regular fiction shelves. Maybe it's in the western section. Nope. Large print? No. True crime? Then I looked again at my book list. Oops, I was looking at the name of the main character, not the author.

Admitting it. 

Cold and Snow; Snow and Cold

Current scene out the window. The snow is really coming down, though I don't think we will have much accumulation here. It's a balmy 11°. That temp doesn't reflect the wind chill factor. Br-r. 

My eldest and his wife had an early a.m. flight to the Virgin Islands where they will be helping rebuild on St. John after Hurricanes Irma and Maria. Doug has been anxious to get there since last fall. I'm glad he's finally going to have the opportunity to help. I know a lot has already been done but still much left to do before it looks like their time there last April.

I've used part of this poem before, but thought of it again on this snowy morning:

Snow-flakes

 by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

"Out of the bosom of the air,

Out of the cloud-folds of her garments shaken,

Over the woodlands brown and bare,

Over the harvest fields forsaken,

Silent and soft and slow

Descends the snow.

Even as our cloudy fancies take

Suddenly shape in some divine expression,

Even as the troubled heart doth make

In the white countenance confession,

The troubled sky reveals

The grief it feels.

This is the poem of the air,

Slowly in silent syllables recorded;

This is the secret of despair,

Long in its cloudy bosom hoarded,

Now whispered and revealed 

To wood and field."

When The Chicks Leave The Nest

I've moved to smaller houses as children grew up and went out on their own. I don't know if that is why my grandparents moved to a much smaller house after their three daughters married or not.

But in 1941, they moved to this little two-bedroom house on the 80-acre farm they purchased a half mile west of Iveyville. It was on the Adams-Taylor County line about five miles from where my parents raised us.

Iveyville was named for Benjamin Ivey, a native of Cornwall, England via Grant County, Wisconsin where many Cornish lead miners had settled. He came to Iowa in 1881 and built a home and general store which also served as a post office for the Iveyville area.

When I was young, Iveyville consisted of a Methodist Church and fellowship hall on the Northeast corner of the bisecting streets, and homes on the other three corners. Mr. Ivey's former home was the one on the Northwest corner. I always liked the house because it had a second story porch which I though was so neat. I wished we had one.

I do remember their house before the porch was enclosed but for most of my life, this is how it looked. Room enough for them, their three daughters and spouses and sixteen grandchildren to crowd into for Thanksgivings, Christmases, Sunday dinners and all the other good times we had there.

Times change. The chicks leave the nest. Grandchildren grow up and move away.
But memories last.

Here's Proof

Look at that serious little face; me at 19 months, Ron, age 5. I've always had a dour countenance. Mom used to tell me to "quit frowning". I would say "I wasn't frowning, I was thinking". Dad would tell me "You think too much".

Slightly younger in this photo with Dad, Ron and Fritz? And slightly less than serious; more like unhappy. Maybe I wanted Dad to hold me instead of Ron. Or maybe I just didn't want my picture taken. Note the ivy on the house. I can remember still trying to root it all out years later.

Here's one of Ronald at five and a half months. He had a much happier disposition. Mom, too, was happy. Even the dog was smiling.

Here I am around three years old; still serious. Little cousin Frank was smiling. Ron was smirking; punching his buddy? I don't know what our neighbor, Norman, was showing off; a pen?, but he was happy, too.
I had a permanent vertical frown line in the middle of my forehead by the time I was ten.
Is there anything wrong with being serious?

Want To Make Some Wine?

Forty years ago, there was one thing I really wanted to try - making my own wine. You could buy starter kits for around $20.00, but even those seemed too complicated to me. I never did try making wine.

Perhaps if I'd had this recipe back then I wouldn't have felt so intimidated by the process. It sounds pretty easy. I found this card in Mom's recipe box but I have no idea where it came from. It is neither Mom or Dad's writing, nor either of the Grandma's. I remember Dad and the Reichardt brothers making wine in a crock in our cave. It was grape wine. I wonder if this recipe came from our old German neighbors?

What I remember most about that big crock in the corner was to "Stay out of it." Probably good advice. I wonder how it turned out?

A Song To Sing While Driving

Yesterday, on one of the Facebook pages I had 'liked', this "midweek reflection" was posted: "What song do you love to sing at the top of your lungs when in the car?"
First of all, the ONLY place I still sing is in my car and ONLY when I am alone. I never could carry a tune and that has only gotten worse with age. I had to think about the question for a minute. There are a lot of songs I like and might sing along with, but only one I turn up loud and belt out.....

.....Bonnie Tyler's Total Eclipse of the Heart from her 1983 album, Faster Than The Speed Of Night.

Back then, I had myself wrapped in country western music so even though my children tried to get me to listen to their favorite music, I couldn't hear it. I didn't tumble to this favorite of my daughter's until after she went away to college and took her tunes with her. I had to buy my own cassette tape, which I was still playing and singing along with until about a year ago. The tape broke. I tried to splice it, but it didn't work. I buy very few CD's anymore, but this might be one I need to seek out.

"Turnaround, every now and then I get a little bit lonely
And you're never coming round
Turnaround, every now and then I get a little bit tired
Of listening to the sound of my tears
Turnaround, every now and then I get a little bit nervous
That the best of all the years have gone by
Turnaround, every now and then I get a little bit terrified
And then I see the look in your eyes
Turnaround bright eyes, but every now and then I fall apart
Turnaround bright eyes, every now and then I fall apart

And I need you now tonight
And I need you more than ever
And if you only hold me tight
We'll be holding on forever
And we'll only be making it right
'Cause we'll never be wrong together
We can take it to the end of the line
Your love is like a shadow on me all of the time
I don't know what to do and I'm always in the dark
We're living in a powder keg and giving off sparks
I really need you tonight
Forever's gonna start tonight
Forever's gonna start tonight

Once upon a time I was falling in love
But now I'm only falling apart
And there's nothing I can do
A total eclipse of the heart
Once upon a time there was light in my life
But now there's only love in the dark
Nothing I can say
A total eclipse of the heart

Turnaround bright eyes, every now and then I fall apart
Turnaround bright eyes, every now and then I fall apart"