February '23 Book List

Nine books this month. I've finished reading my way through all the Baldacci's and Lisa Gardner's until new titles for those two authors come out.

The Christmas Train by David Baldacci is a departure from his usual fare - still a mystery, but less mayhem.

Smoky Smith - The Legendary Life of Iowa's "Mr. Country Music" by Terry Manley is a book a read because a) I decided it was time to read a biography and b) as soon as I saw the title I thought, "Now there is a name I can connect to." I *really* think I saw him perform in Des Moines once or twice, but I don't have any specific memories of where or when. He did perform with Maurie Goode and the Country Gentlemen some so maybe that is where I saw him. 

The Killing Hour, Gone and Say Goodbye all by Lisa Gardner.

Nothing Ventured by Jeffrey Archer is just the first book I will be reading by this 'new to me' English author.

One Summer is the last David Baldacci for me until I get my turn for his latest book. He's a popular author at my library.

Takes One To Know One by Susan Isaacs is also the last book left for me to read by this author. 

When You See Me by Lisa Gardner was also the last unread book for me by this author.

Obviously, it's time to find a few more good authors, preferably some who have already published a number of books. 

Before February Slips Out - A Little Poetry

Paiute Late Winter Song 

Loud are the thunder drums in the tents of the mountains

Oh long, long

Have we eaten chia seeds

and dried deer's flesh of the summer killing.

We are tired of our huts

and the smoky smell of our clothing.

We are sick for the desire of the sun

And the grass on the mountain.

(This poem chosen because we had thunder here last night, not close and sharp, but loud enough. And rain. It was still raining when I got up this morning.)

A Calendar of Sonnet's: February

Still lie the sheltering snows, undimmed and white;

And reigns the winter's pregnant silence still;

No sign of spring, save that the catkins fill,

And willow sterns grow daily red and bright.

These are days when ancients held a rite

Of expiation for the old year's ill,

And prayer to purify the new year's will.

(By Helen Hunt Jackson, one of my favorite authors.)

And lastly, because today is the anniversary of his birth --

Afternoon In February By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow (1807-1882)

The day is ending, 

The night is descending;

The marsh is frozen,

The river dead.

Through clouds like ashes

The red sun flashes

On village windows

That glimmer red.

Soon spring will be here. The peepers will be calling and violets will be blooming.  And I will be grateful for my 79th spring. And who knows what else? All the wild weather fluctuations have me wondering what we may be in for next. 

The sunset photo is one I took Saturday evening. It was the clouds. 

Belated Second Birthday Party

 

It's the photos that are belated, not the party. Friends and family gathered to celebrate great-grandson Louis' 2nd birthday last Saturday on his birth day, the 18th. It was held at the Des Moines Children's Museum.

We had a private room for the cake, gifts, lunch, etc., but the museum was open for all of us to explore. At first I questioned the use of the word 'museum' because it was just one huge area of toys and playthings and total bedlam with all the little ones running around. Then I realized it is a museum - where so many child friendly activities and teaching moments have been curated.

So here are some random photos from the party.

I call this one "Find a Friend". The little girl was already in the cart. Louis joined her. She didn't seem to mind too much. 

Fireman Louis.

My daughter-in-law, Shalea, with her grandsons Louis and Greyson and cousin Brynley.

Ayden and great-grandpa Bud. He is the most loving little boy. He always runs to greet us with a hug everytime we see him. 

Great-granddaughter Brynley giving me one of her cheer leader poses.

Her mother and Louis' mom are first cousins.

Louis' aunt Deise when she found the dill pickles.

 First cousins, Greyson and Louis eating lunch.

Louis opening his gift from the great-grands. I can't afford to give my greats much. It's always a card in the mail with a five dollar bill. But if we go to their party I try to give them a little present in addition to the card and money. It is usually a book, but for Louis, on this day, it was a package of puzzles. 

I don't know if his parents will appreciate them. When my kids were little it seemed like I was constantly picking up puzzle pieces. 

Probably my favorite pic of the day - me and the birthday boy. I'm still blown over by the fact that his parent's named him Louis - which was my dad's name. 

Hubby Dearest wanted his photo taken with this mail box. He is always giving our mailman a bad time and wanted to give him a copy of the photo. 😄

It was a wonderful, memorable day, but great-grandma came home totally wiped out. It is fun, but tiring, trying to keep up with those little ones.

Sign above a doorway at the children's museum. I'm so very grateful to have all this day's moments among my memories. 💗

33 Hours Without Water

In the "you don't appreciate what you have until you don't have it" category all I can say is HOW TRUE! From the time I got up yesterday morning at 5:00 and realized we didn't have any water until 2:00 this afternoon felt a lot longer than thirty-three hours. 

HD was sure it had to be frozen pipes while I was imagining the worst possible scenario - like the yard was going to have to be dug up because it was the line from the main to our house - it was going to cost a small fortune - they'd have to break up the cement patio to get to it - etc., etc. etc. 

And my reasoning that it wasn't just frozen pipes? In the fourteen winters we've lived here the only times we've had a pipe freeze was the one to the stool in the master bath and a few minutes with a hair dryer had it thawed out. But all the pipes? When it wasn't even below zero? Never.

I went to Wally and bought four gallon jugs of water and another case of 24 bottles to add to the case and half we already had while Bud hauled a five gallon bucket of water from the club house at least four or five times so we could flush the stools. And, of course, we tried to get a hold of a plumber. Not one answered their phone or called back when we left a message. 

So after lunch HD borrowed a forced air propane heater and an hour and a half later we had WATER. Oh, how wonderful! It seemed a lot longer than a day and half. Two showers, a sink of dirty dishes and a load of laundry later, we feel human again. The time without water is already dimming. But I swear I won't take turning on the tap for granted again! 💧😌

Addendum: Thank goodness I have a spouse to get me through times like these. I can't imagine being alone and facing even something like frozen pipes. 💞

A Valentine From Family Search

When I went to my Email account this morning I had a "Discover Your Ancestor's Marriage Event" message from my Family Search website. My first thought was, "Oh, cool, a Valentine's wedding". But when I opened it, I found that it was sent yesterday. So, an 'almost Valentine's wedding'. 

My great-grandparents, Bernard (Barney) Thomas Lynam and Nancy Emma Gravett were married 135 years ago, February 13, 1888 - a Monday. This family photo was most likely taken around 1899 because that little boy, my great-uncle Ralph Vincent Lynam (1895-1974), was born in 1895 and looks to be three to four years old. Others in the photo are my grandpa, George Albert Lynam (1891-1947), great-aunt Agnes Lulu Lynam Thomas (1888-1964) and great-uncle William James Lynam (1889-1960). 

Great-great Grandma Nancy was born in 1869 and died in 1914 - the same year as her father. She was only 45 years old. What I read about her death was that she had attended the funeral of a friend, went home and suffered a stroke and died three days later. 

Great-grandpa Barney was born December 16, 1863 and died September 20, 1919, at the age of 55. I found a copy his death certificate signed by G. H. Sumner, M.D. (a name I had never run across before) which, though barely legible, reads cause of death as "Cancer of Oesophagus". Again, something I didn't know. 

As long as I had her page open, I decided to look again at the Gravett family tree. I knew she came from a large family as I have this Gravett family photo. In 2010 when I wrote about them I said there were ten surviving children and five deceased. 

 I was wrong - they had seventeen children. Poor great-great-grandma Malinda Jane - pregnant or nursing from 1863 to 1900. The children were: William Ellis (1863-1934), John Wilson (1865-1916), Frank M. (1867-1911), Nancy Emma (1869-1914), Sylvester Crane Isaac (1871-1955), Roiena (1873-1879), Della (1873-1874), Mertilla (1874-1875), Kattie Rowena, (1875-1877), Stella (1878-1879), George Washington (1879-1951), Lulu Grace (1881-1958), Beulah (1881-Deceased), Elma Viola (1883-1973), Jeanette Mabel (1885-1940), Joseph Cecil (1887-1971), Kattie (1890-1890).

Great-great-grandpa George Washington was GWII, meaning the George Washington born in 1879 was GWIII. Jeanette's daughter-in-law, Bernadette, was the woman who gave me the Gravett family photo after her husband, Paul Hunt, died. I don't remember Lulu Grace, but I worked in the school library for her daughter, Ruth Wyatt, who was the highschool librarian. Uncle Joe, I did know and remember. I also remember seeing some of the graves of at least three of those little girls in the Findley Cemetery. (There's more about the Gravett's in my blog post of October 22, 2010.) I'm curious about Elma Viola, who lived until 1973. I don't remember ever hearing anything about her, but without a married name, I doubt I'll be able to trace her. But I'm going to try! 

I hope you are enjoying the day - Happy St. Valentine's Day! 💘

What Can Muscle Memory Help Us Do?

I've heard or read the term muscle memory several times lately and I have a fair idea of what it means. But for a precise definition it is: "A neurological process that allows you to remember certain motor skills and perform them without conscious effort." For instance what I am doing right now - touch typing - a skill I learned sixty-three years ago, although now it is referred to as keyboarding or just keying.

"When a movement is repeated over time, the brain creates a long-term muscle memory for that task, eventually allowing it to be performed with little or no conscious effort." 

"Skill retention from muscle memory can potentially last forever." Which leads me to this question:

If I were presented with a pony, a buggy and a harness, would I still be able to harness the horse, hitch it to the buggy and go for a ride? I haven't harnessed a horse since I was fourteen or fifteen years old - 65-ish years ago. I have very little memory of how to do so. But if I tried, would my muscle memory guide me through the process?

I don't expect to ever know the answer to that question. It's just something on my mind this morning. The photo of me with our horse Queenie was taken when I was around ten or eleven years old. Dad taught me how to harness the horse to the buggy by myself. I don't remember if Betty ever learned to do it alone, though I remember her helping me. Just looking at those reins and harness brings back some procedural memories. I almost believe I could still do it! 

Watching the Super Bowl Commercials

"People Are Saying Sarah MacLachlan's Super Bowl Ad for Busch Light Is a Masterpiece" was one of the first articles I noticed on my home page this morning. It used to be you had to wait for the actual airing of the game to see the touted commercials, now many are released early. 

I'm a big fan of Sarah MacLachlan's music so naturally I had to watch the :30 second ad. It is something of a spoof, a take off, of MacLachlan's ads for the ASPCA commercials which feature neglected animals in need of shelter; a home. Her song Angel plays in the background. And while I love the song I always mute those commercials. They are meant to play on your heartstrings, invoking sadness, and they do. I can't watch nor listen to them. 

From 1994 to 1999 there was a TV show I adored. It was Due South about a Canadian RCMP Constable attached to the Canadian Consulate in Chicago. Partly police drama and partly comedy, it was a weekly must see.

But what really caught my attention was the song playing during the introduction. It was so hauntingly beautiful. It took quite awhile before I discovered the singer was Sarah MacLachlan. Once I did, I bought her cassette, Fumbling Toward Ecstacy. On it was Possession, the theme song that had me captivated. 

I have several of her cassettes and CDs, but Possession remains my favorite tune. 

Possession

Listen as the wind blows from across the great divide
Voices trapped in yearning, memories trapped in time
The night is my companion, and solitude my guide
Would I spend forever here and not be satisfied?
And I would be the one
To hold you down
Kiss you so hard
I'll take your breath away
And after, I'd wipe away the tears
Just close your eyes dear
Through this world I've stumbled
So many times betrayed
Trying to find an honest word to find
The truth enslaved
Oh you speak to me in riddles
And you speak to me in rhymes
My body aches to breathe your breath
Your words keep me alive
And I would be the one
To hold you down
Kiss you so hard
I'll take your breath away
And after, I'd wipe away the tears
Just close your eyes dear
Into this night I wander
It's morning that I dread
Another day of knowing of
The path I fear to tread
Oh into the sea of waking dreams
I follow without pride
Nothing stands between us here
And I won't be denied
And I would be the one
To hold you down
Kiss you so hard
I'll take your breath away
And after, I'd wipe away the tears
Just close your eyes...

Three of my four NFL Divisional Playoff choices won but by the time it was down to the final four the only game I really cared about was the KC Chiefs against the Jacksonville Jaguars. That was intense, especially when Mahomes was injured. The Chiefs won the AFC championship and the Philidelphia Eagles won the NFC championship so it will be those two teams vying on Super Bowl Sunday. It's the Chiefies for me. Also, who cares about the Super Bowl commercials?