Go Rest High...

                                       My family lights this candle in loving memory of our brother, 
                                                           Frederick Joseph Perran, 
                                                     December 1956-September 2013. 
                                                               Rest In Peace, Rick...


“I'm the one who’s got to die when it's time for me to die, so let me live my life the way I want to.” ― Jimi Hendrix, ~Axis: Bold as Love

 Go Rest High On That Mountain-Vince Gill/Alison Krauss/Ricky Skaggs
 It's Always Now~Sam Harris


Have you ever been enjoying a beautiful day, when suddenly the bottom falls out of it?  That’s what happened yesterday when my brother-in-law, Jimmy, called to tell us that Tom’s older brother Rick was no longer with us.
My head did that awkward tilt that it does when you don’t believe you’ve heard something correctly.
“What?” I said, after Tom informed me that his brother had died.
My husband had to sit down because his legs couldn’t hold him upright any longer as he repeated the disbelieving news that Jimmy had relayed to him.  His voice broke as he spoke those awful words.
Then, the day wasn’t beautiful anymore.
It’s never an easy thing to receive this kind of news.  Never.  It’s especially hard when it comes too soon.  People know when too soon is – 56 years old is too soon.  Details were sketchy.  Suspicions were high.  Heart attack.  It appears that’s what had come to claim Rick – the same thing that had claimed their father 25 years prior.
“Man....” I remember saying...feeling at a loss, not knowing what else to say.  It’s hard to collect words and form them into a cohesive sentence when one’s brain has shut down.  I could only manage to muster the same offering that my brother had given me when he learned that I’d suffered my first miscarriage.  It’s one of those digestive, grappling words that one’s brain uses as it tries to wrap itself around something that’s just been imparted to it, but can’t quite fully comprehend.  Man.....  It sums up so much in the realm of disbelief.
Then, I reached over and hugged my husband because, when you hear that the life of a loved one has left and is heaven bound, you want to hold onto a loved one for dear life....hold on tight.  That’s what we did.  We held on tight.
My mind spiraled back to the first time I’d ever talked to Rick.  It was in October of 1994, after I had become engaged to Tom.  Rick congratulated us, and thanked me for giving his brother a reason to make some positive changes in his life.  It had meant a lot to me.  He had lovingly and graciously welcomed me into their family, and told us that he’d be there in April to happily witness our marriage.  He’d be there with bells on.  We all laughed at that.  Given that both of Tom’s parents were deceased, we asked Rick and his then-wife, Johnnie, if they would sit in for their parents.  He was touched by the request, and proudly sat in the front pew across from my parents on the day that his brother and I exchanged our wedding vows.
Later, before they returned home to Washington state, we all went to The Outback for dinner.  I’ll never forget as we hugged them goodbye, Rick offering Tom his wise piece of marital advice.  It was sage advice: “Don’t ever forget, Tommy, that she and the two of you are the most important things in your world!”  He slapped his brother’s back, and hugged him tightly.  “And, you...” He said, pulling me into an equally tight and loving hug. “Just love him! You’ve got a good guy here — one of the best!”  It was a blessing — literally and figuratively.  It meant the world to us both.
Now, in this moment, it is the thing I remember most gratefully about Rick — how he blessed us both so perfectly as we began our life together.  It was important.
I think when someone goes to “The Next Place”, it’s the time to find the thing that you treasured most about them and hold to it.  Everything else is nonessential.
Tonight, we light a candle, and we remember our brother, Frederick Joseph Perran, who like his father and mother left this world much too soon, but he lived his life the way he wanted to — exactly as he wanted to.  In the end, he seemed to be at a place of peace.  It’s all that any of us can ask.
For us, we now begin the process of planning Rick’s wake with his son, Justin.  Then, we’ll make the pilgrimage to Florida to celebrate his life.  Finally, we’ll tuck him soundly in our hearts and minds where our treasured memories are safe-housed.   Better expressed in the words of Antoine de Saint-Exupery, “He who has gone, so we but cherish his memory, it abides with us, more potent, nay, more present than the living man.”

Go rest high, Rick, and rest in peace...

                                                  Rick Perran [Left] August 24, 2013


*Special mention: today would have been my mother-n-law’s {Joan Claire Walsh Perran} 88th birthday. Tom and I were talking about her today, and I mentioned that I’d like to hear a song that he once told me she loved.  It’s “Something” by the Beatles.
“Rick introduced her to that song,” he said, wistfully.
“Really?” I asked, surprised.  I’d never heard that detail of the story before.
He nodded.
“Yeah,” he replied, thinking back. “He had the ‘Abbey Road’ album, and she heard him playing it one time.  She always loved that song.  It became one of her favorites.”
“Hm...” I mused, thinking about that....considering it.
As sad a day as it is for us, how happy she must be today to be celebrating HER birthday with her first born child for the first time in 32 years.  Today, I play “Something” in memory of them both.

  Something~George Harrison

She Who Should Be Queen

“Life began with waking up and loving my mother's face.” ~George Eliot

One of my favorite photographs~3 Generations

Circa 1988

A Mother’s Love
by Jim Brickman

Thank you for watching over me
All of the sleepless nights you lay awake
Thank you for knowing when to hold me close
when to let me go

Thank you for every stepping stone
And for the path that always leads me home
I thank you for the time you took
to see the heart inside of me

You gave me the roots to start this life
and then you gave me wings to fly
and I learned to dream
because you believed in me

There's no power like it on this earth
No treasure equal to its worth
The gift of a mother's love

Thank you for every sunlit day
That filled the corners of my memory
Thank you for every selfless unsung deed
I know you did for me

Thank you for giving me the choice
To search my soul till I could find my voice
And I thank you for teaching me
To be strong enough to bend

You gave me the roots to start this life
And then you gave me wings to fly
And I learned to dream
Because you believed in me

There's no power like it on this earth
No treasure equal to its worth
The gift of a mother's love

I thank God for a mother's love...

                                                             Happy Birthday Mother

  A Mother’s Love~Jim Brickman & Mark Masri
 My Mother’s Eyes~Bette Midler
  Good Mother~Jann Arden
 Billy Crystal’s Fernando-You Look Marvelous

I woke up this morning in a celebratory mood: it’s my mother’s birthday.  She’s 50-24 today, [I borrowed this way of calculating from Elayne Boosler] and in the words of Billy Crystal’s Fernando character from Saturday Night Live, “She looks mahvalous, Dahling!”  I even said that on the phone this morning after Tom, and I serenaded her with “Happy Birthday”.  She laughed.
I’ve thought a lot today about what I could write about my mother.  I’ve written a lot about her on this blog: I’ve told stories about what a great mother she is and how blessed I am to have been chosen as one of three children entrusted by the big guy upstairs to “make her a mother”.   Each of us had our special roles to play in that task.  We’ve all caused her some gray hairs throughout this process — some laughs — some tears — some worries — some prideful moments — some headaches and given a whole lot of love.  It’s what kids do.  From cradle to grave, it’s a never-ending cycle of Mom-Child emotions wrapped up in a never-ending love. At least that’s how it plays for me.  When we get it wrong or do it badly, she forgives us.  She’s got her role down pat.  She always has.  I admire her.  Still.  She referees when she needs to; comforts when it’s necessary; she still offers advice when one of us is struggling with something; and, she continues to sacrifice.  I don’t think a mother worth her salt ever stops doing that.  My mother is worth her salt.   If I had to classify her as a salt, she’d be a Fleur De Sel {flower of salt} de Guérande known as “the caviar of sea salts” and accepted among chefs as the best.  That’s my mother alright: the best.
When I spoke to her this morning, she joked that she might wear her tiara today.  I told her to do it!  It’s her day after all! It reminded me of last month when she took the tiara that my oldest friend in this world, Terri, bought for my 50th celebration, and placed it on her head.  We laughed.  Terri snapped a picture and called it: She who SHOULD be Queen.  Yes, I agree wholeheartedly with that sentiment.  My mother should have been queen of some municipality somewhere.   It doesn’t have to be a large country.  On the contrary, if my mother was indeed Queen of someplace, it should be a place that’s small—quaint but eclectic.  Fun.  Definitely with ocean views...something along the lines of Monaco but low bearing, because she doesn’t like heights [neither do I].  Yeah.  I could see that.  I can see that so clearly in my mind’s eye. In case I’ve failed to mention this, my mother holds court very well.  People flock to her!  Some people have that “thing” that draws others to them.  My mother’s got it!  People want to be around her — they enjoy being around her.  She knows how to have a good time, and how to show people a good time too.   Yes.  She SHOULD have been born a queen!  At least today, she gets to be one.  I hope she wore her tiara!
Mom, I could give you a thousand accolades, and it wouldn’t be enough to tell you how wonderful I think you are, how blessed I am to have you for my mother or how much I love you.  But, know this....next year for your diamond jubilee....make sure that tiara is in sparkle and shine order, because we’re going to rent a room, order some food, play some music, hold court and party with everyone who wants to join me in hugging you tight and saying, “Happy Birthday, Dahling! You....Look....Mahvalous!!!!”

                                            My  favorite picture of my mother. Circa late 70's

Rolling Along...

“I know for certain that we never lose the people we love, even to death. They continue to participate in every act, thought and decision we make. Their love leaves an indelible imprint in our memories. We find comfort in knowing that our lives have been enriched by having shared their love.”  ~Leo Buscaglia

“The greatest tragedy in mankind's entire history may be the hijacking of morality by religion.”
                                                            ~ Arthur C. Clarke

  9-11-01 Video Tribute

I’ve spent today in quiet reflection and meditation.  It began much like it did on that day 12 years ago when I woke at 6:00 a.m. — I had an appointment this morning to get ready for, but even that hour was early for me.  I guess subconsciously, it was all there in the heart and mind, needing to be recalled.
I took my puppies out for an early morning walk, and couldn’t help but notice that today’s morning was much like THAT day’s morning — cool and clear with the hint of autumn in the air.  It came back to me as we walked – all of it, with a crystal clear clarity that tends to occur with life-changing events like that.
I heard children talking and laughing as they walked down the street to the bus stop and found the sounds of normalcy both odd and comforting on this particular morning.  Once inside, I went and meditated before I took my shower and made my tea.  I let the hot water beat on my back and neck as the images of September 11th, 2001 came flooding back.  For those who lived through that horrible day, those images never go away, and if you close your eyes and think about it long enough, they materialize as quickly as the nightmare seemed to unfold.  So much has happened in the 12 years since that terrible morning, yet it still feels like just yesterday that it happened.  It’s surreal. Still.
I remember every moment of that morning, and I knew that everyone else remembered it too.  Those who lived through that day, all have a story.  Some are more tragic and sad than others, but we all suffered and lost on that pre-autumn day a dozen years ago.   I went to the computer to post my remembrances on both Facebook and Twitter, and to read others’ posts too.  It was a way to be connected in the echos of that grief, and each of you know that it lingers.  It always will.
Today was our national day of mourning, when we collectively paused to honor those who we lost to such a senseless show of brutal cowardice.  I’m surprised by how much it still overwhelms, yet it does.   I’m saddened that our world still cannot seem to bridge the divide of humanity around ourselves and simply love one another.  I do not understand why it is such a hard task for some to do?  I guess I will never understand given the choice of love and peace versus hate and agitation, how people can truly want to stand on the side of hatred and derisiveness?  But, I’m a love and only love kind of woman....I’m a give peace a chance kind of girl!  Yeah.....all you need is love!  Trust me....love is ALL you need to make this world a better place!  Well, that and maybe reaching out to touch somebody’s hand.
Today, as we remember September 11, 2001 —  those we lost and the lessons we garnered from that tragedy, I pray for world peace too.  We are STILL in desperate need of it.   It is the key to happiness, and the answer to these problems that seem to divide us.  Peace.  Peace.  I wish the whole world would say it together in unison and feel the soothing energy that flows from it.
We’re rolling along, Todd Beamer!  I hope you can see that we’re rolling along!  Some days are better than others, but we DO keep trying.  I have faith that we’ll get it right in the end, because good always triumphs over evil.  I was raised to believe that, and I hold to it, especially today.  So, I’m going to go and listen to some comforting music and Paul Harvey’s Open Letter from God, which is so awesome in its truth regarding “this whole enchilada” ... Man, did he hit the nail on the head in terms of putting it ALL into perspective!  I wish that EVERYONE would listen to that message of his and have their hearts and minds opened up to the pure thought that through-by-in love, light and peace, these are the only ways, means and manners to live this life we have been given.
“Oh, Jhill!” some of you are saying in that tone, waving your hand at me in disbelief, like I’m living in a fairy tale.  “Get real!”
Well, I do like fairy tales.  I’ve copped to that.  And, I believe in them too.  Not all of them, but some....
And, I am being real when I think and believe that peace is possible and love it the answer to every situation — both big and small! Things flourish when loved, and die when deprived of it.  I didn’t make that up.
On this day of remembrance, I’ll also keep hoping for ALL good things for everyone: praying for peace, dreaming of a world where people simply love and support each other without regard for anything beyond the simple truth that we are all human beings on our own journey.  Be kind.  Play nice with each other.  We are ALL struggling with something, each one of us.  Be gentle with one another.  Leave the world a better place.  Can we all just get along and love one another?  These aren’t hard concepts.  They’re really very simple ideas.  Elementary.  These are the first things that we teach our children.  How do we lose that message as we get older?  Do we need to go back and write these things down 100 times in a spiral notebook again to remind ourselves of what is truly important?   I’m in...
You may believe that I’m being unrealistic in thinking that we can accomplish these things, if we’d all just try a little harder.  I’m not.  I’m grounded in reality. I think it’s doable.
What a lovely way to honor those who died on this day than to re-dedicate ourselves to loving our fellow brothers and sisters the way Todd Beamer and the other passengers on Flight 93 did, when they downed their aircraft in that field in Pennsylvania to make certain that evil did not triumph in that particular instance, on that particular morning.  Think about that for a minute and remember this:  “Greater love has no one than this: than to lay down one's life for his friends....”  Boy, they passed that test!  I don’t think it’s too much to ask to spread a little love around in return....indefinitely....
As Peacemaker Anwar Sadat said, “You’re NOT a realist unless you believe in miracles.”
I guess you know what that makes me. ;-)
And, on we roll...


  Reach Out & Touch Someone’s Hand~Diana Ross
  From A Distance~Bette Midler
 An Open Letter From God~Paul Harvey

In the words of Paul Harvey, “Good Day...”

Somewhere Between 44 and Senior...

                                            {Erika, THIS sounds like a game-plan, huh? ;-)}

“Age is a question of mind over matter.  If you don't mind, it doesn't matter.”  ~Leroy "Satchel" Paige

“Wrinkles should merely indicate where smiles have been.”  ~Mark Twain

   Forever Young~Joan Baez

quandary >noun-state of uncertainty or perplexity, especially as requiring a choice between equally unfavorable options.

Have you ever been in a quandary?  I found myself in one today after I got the mail.  I’ve been working through it for the last hour and decided to write it out, because that always helps me get things into proper perspective.
“What’s the problem, Jhill?” many of you may be asking.
Well, I’m stuck in the middle between two agencies that are trying to confuse me, I think, as to where my place is on the age scale.  I’m at the grown-up table, but I’m just not certain where I’m suppose to sit?
Needs further explanation doesn’t it?  Yes. Well, here goes...
As those of you know who read my blog, I turned 50 last month.  It just so happened that my driver’s license came up for renewal in 2013.  The state of Virginia has done a crazy little thing recently for “cost effective” reasons regarding driver’s licenses — it doesn’t require you to come into the DMV any longer to renew them.  They send you a form in the mail, you fill it out and send them a check. {WHAT could possibly go wrong with this new way of doing things without them actually seeing the person getting the photo identification? She asks with a tinge of sarcasm.  HELLO! Have you ever heard of a little thing called FRAUD?} Wait. It gets better.  Get this: IF you want to go into the DMV to pay for your license in person, they charge you an extra fee to do so.  Is that the most absurd thing you’ve ever heard in your life?  SOOOOOO.....I wasn’t really sure how this was going to work because, as just mentioned, my license is a photo ID.  How was I going to get my picture taken for my new license, if I was precluded from going into the DMV?  You know what they did to resolve THAT little dilemma?  They took ALL the information from my previous 2007 driver’s license and slapped it onto my new license - old picture, old stats....half of the information on it isn’t correct anymore.  I’ve lost weight since then.  I’ve shrunk an inch since then — those pesky degenerative discs!  I’m SIX years older for crying out loud!  Shouldn’t the information on a legal document such as this be up-to-date and accurate?  Shouldn’t the picture be recent instead of when I was 44?  Just throwing that out there....shouldn’t the state of Virginia NOT handle something as delicate a matter as one’s LEGAL photo ID via the mail where it could – might get lost in the mail or fall into the wrong hands?  Is that concern REALLY out of the realm of possibility?   I’m certain I’m not the only one with this concern.  Well, I know I’m not.  My husband has it too.  I’m sure we’re not the only ones with this concern!
Backwards.  It’s a backwards way of handling a sensitive matter.  My state has been called that a time or two, and I have to admit that, in this instance, I have to agree with that assessment.  Doing things like handling driver’s license renewals solely via mail just spells trouble to me.  What if it’s delivered to the wrong address?  Gets lost in the mail?  Falls into the hands of a person with criminal intentions?  This is a fraud situation waiting to happen as far as I’m concerned.  I think it’s a bad move!  That’s just me though. {And my husband}
I also think I should be able to go into the DMV if I want to and have a new picture taken on my driver’s license renewal.   I mean I DO live in a southern state which is SUPPOSE to be known for its hospitality.   Telling me that I’m not welcome to come into a government office to renew something that I AM paying for seems a little inhospitable to me, don’tcha think?
I mean, it would be nice if I had the opportunity to turn that old license in and have the woman behind the counter take it from me before she took my new picture and say cheerfully to me [because I do live in the south and people at the DMV do engage in pleasant conversation when you’re there in person...]
“Well, my goodness! You look like you’ve lost a little weight, Ma’am.” [And, also, because women notice that kind of thing....]
To which I could happily say, beaming.  “Yes.  Yes, I have.  Thank you for noticing that! It’s been hell getting it off!”
She would then add. “Honey! I KNOW that’s right! And, you’ve highlighted your hair!”
I would then chuckle in response and reply. “No, but thank you for YOUR kind take on it!  My mother informs me that’s a passel of gray movin’ in!  Bless your benevolent eyes!”
I’d pay my money and get my new license, before I’d be on my merry way. Is that so wrong to want that kind of encounter, since I’ve got to pay for the d@mn thing anyway?  It didn’t work out like that.  Instead, I’ve got a new license with incorrect statistical information and a six-year-old picture on it, which isn’t a picture I was too thrilled with in the first place! So, I’m stuck with that for another six years.  What happens when I turn 56?  I shudder to think about it, as I imagine I will be much shorter and grayer by that point! LOL
That’s the first part of the quandary.
Here’s the second: this morning, I pulled a temporary AARP membership card out of the mail.  My eyes bugging out like that was NOT a pretty sight.  I think it terrified my puppies to tell you the truth!  I had to sit down to collect myself.  I had rumblings last summer that they were going to send me an invitation to join them, when I was still 49, but this is an official card.  When I was a kid, AARP meant SENIOR citizen.  I am NOT a senior citizen, thank you very much!  I’m 50 years old.  That’s like PRIME middle age.  If I was real-estate, that would equate to a REALLY good section of town. But, I’m NOT real estate.  I’m a person, and I’m NOT a senior one!  At best, I’m a healthy, middle-aged one but a far cry from senior citizen!  This is not a slam on seniors either!  I LOVE senior citizens! It’s just that I’m not ready to be taken to THAT portion of life’s party, before I’ve had my dance at this one!  DON’T RUSH ME!  I JUST GOT HERE!
Anyway...I went to the internet and looked up AARP just to refresh my memory as to what it represented.  Here is what I found: originally, the moniker stood for the American Association for Retired Persons.  But, in 1999, it formally changed its “official” name to AARP and no longer stands for anything.  I kid you not.  That’s what it says.  I don’t know if I like something that doesn’t stand for anything!  However, I did find this descriptive function in the group’s own words: “leads positive social change and delivers value to members through information, advocacy and service.”  Then, it went on to explain that this included lobbying efforts on behalf of SENIORS, educational programs etc and so forth.
I have a question.  WHEN did 50 year old people become classified as seniors?  If that’s the case, why can’t 50 year old people retire at 50 instead of 65, and if the government has its way 67 or higher?  There needs to be some definitive understanding here.  When I was growing up, you were a senior when you hit 65 — teetering at the age of 62, but you weren’t anywhere close to the mark at 50!  You certainly weren’t getting an invitation to the party 15 years in advance.
I’m a grown-up, and I’m mature.  However, I don’t really want to be considered a “senior” at this point my life.  I don’t know....it just seems like I haven’t earned that right yet....or those stripes.  I certainly don’t have the wisdom to be classified as a senior.  That comes with more age and life experience.   I have the wisdom of a middled-aged person.  I have some life experience and battle scars, but I’m not at the golden age yet.  My mother is a senior.  I don’t want to be on an even keel with her until I’m 65 and she’s 89.   Then it seems appropriate, but not at this stage in my life!  For me, it has to do with respect as well.  As I said, I’ve got a lot more to learn before I can claim the honor stripes of being a senior citizen.
After all, Victor Hugo once said that, “Forty is the old age of youth; fifty the youth of old age.”
This milestone birthday transitioned me into a new phase in my life — one in which I’m at the youthful side of the playing field.   I’m new again!  Just like the Peter Allen song says!
I was just thinking how much easier this AARP invitation would have been to deal with if they’d included a pack of Bazooka bubble gum in with MY invitation — like a little party favor to cajole me into maybe wanting to give them $16 for the year membership that I REALLY don’t qualify for at this stage in my life except that they’ve finagled its age requirements down to let young whippersnappers like me into its organization.  I also don’t need the free travel bag they’re offering.  That’s something I prefer to pick out for myself, and it’s in boring black!  Lord, if you’re going to offer a free give-a-way, pep up your color – say to PURPLE maybe!  Not just because that’s my favorite color! HELLO! Haven’t you people EVER heard of Jenny Joseph? {Warning: When I’m an Old Woman, I Shall Wear Purple}  You’re AARP for crying out loud!!!  Also, if you’re on top of your game, you know that I’m at the younger end of your age spectrum and the Bazooka isn’t an inappropriate party favor for MY invitation, as I don’t yet have dentures, and I do still enjoy chewing gum and blowing bubbles — JUST NOT POPPING GUM! {Test question: who remembers that post about popping gum? ;-) Can you name it? } First person who can gets a pack of Bazooka Bubble gum!!!! :-)
Anyway....I think I’ve worked through this quandary that I’ve been in regarding my place at the age table.  I’ve got a firm grip on MY reality no matter how anyone else tries to trip me up!  I’ve got a new driver’s license with last go round’s picture on it from 2007  — now with outdated statistical information on it to boot & an early {wink, wink} invitation to join the AARP’s chorus line.  Ya’ll try to keep that green-eyed monster under wraps!  If it hasn’t already, your time will come for this honor.  Trust me on that.
Here’s another life lesson: even in the minutiae details of life, it’s not perfect.   Does it matter in the overall scheme of things? No.  Who really cares? Probably not a soul!  But, PRAISE GOD, I’m still here with my new~old driver’s license & my waaaaay early AARP invitation!  WOO*HOO!!!!!  It’s all good!  Somebody hand me a Hershey Bar with almonds, a glass of chocolate milk and fire up “Everything Old Is New Again” and let’s PAR*TAY!


  Everything Old Is New Again from “All That Jazz”~written and sung by Peter Allen

Lyrics to Everything Old Is New Again:

When trumpets were mellow
And every gal only had one fellow
No need to remember when
'Cause everything old is new again

Dancin' at church, Long Island, jazzy parties
Waiter bring us some more Baccardi
We'll order now, what they ordered then
'Cause everything old is new again

Get out your white suit, your tap shoes and tails
Let's go backwards when forward fails
And movie stars you thought were alone then
Now are framed beside your bed

Don't throw the past away
You might need it some rainy day
Dreams can come true again
When everything old is new again

Get out your white suit, your tap shoes and tails
Put it on backwards when forward fails
Better leave Greta Garbo alone
Be a movie star on your own

And don't throw the past away
You might need it some other rainy day
Dreams can come true again
When everything old is new again
When everything old is new again

I might fall in love with you again

Warning: When I Am An Old Woman I Shall Wear Purple
By: Jenny Joseph

When I am an old woman I shall wear purple,
With a red hat which doesn't go, and doesn't suit me.
And I shall spend my pension on brandy and summer gloves
And satin sandals, and say we've no money for butter.
I shall sit down on the pavement when I'm tired
And gobble up samples in shops and press alarm bells
And run my stick along the public railings
And make up for the sobriety of my youth.
I shall go out in my slippers in the rain
And pick flowers in other people's gardens
And learn to spit.

You can wear terrible shirts and grow more fat
And eat three pounds of sausages at a go
Or only bread and pickle for a week
And hoard pens and pencils and beermats and things in boxes.

But now we must have clothes that keep us dry
And pay our rent and not swear in the street
And set a good example for the children.
We must have friends to dinner and read the papers.

But maybe I ought to practice a little now?
So people who know me are not too shocked and surprised
When suddenly I am old, and start to wear purple...

September's Song

  September~Earth, Wind & Fire

"The breezes taste
Of apple peel.
The air is full
Of smells to feel-
Ripe fruit, old footballs,
Burning brush,
New books, erasers,
Chalk, and such.
The bee, his hive,
Well-honeyed hum,
And Mother cuts
Chrysanthemums.
Like plates washed clean
With suds, the days
Are polished with
A morning haze."
-   John Updike, September

It’s the first of September.  I was thinking just the other day: “WOW! WHERE did this summer go?”  I swear it zipped by this year.  Some year’s are like that, I guess, but it re-affirmed that we shouldn’t take one minute for granted.  It reminded me, once again, that we should make the most of the time we have — be present in the moments—the seasons of our lives.  Did I nap through my summer?  I don’t think I did, but it went SO fast this year.  Of course, I am getting older.  I hit the BIG one {50} this summer, and several of my jokester friends have been teasing me that the mind is the first thing to go.   They know THAT comment will rile me up~LOL, [NO! NOT THE MIND!!!!!!] but I digress....
I love all the season’s, but I cannot tell a lie!  Autumn is my favorite.  Each one brings with it a special cause for celebration yet autumn is the time for harvest, to name but one of several things for which to be grateful.  The bounty of one’s hard work is realized.   It was always such an important time of year for my grandparents, who were farmers.  Perhaps, that impressed upon me at an early age.  They always came to visit us at Thanksgiving.  Maybe that’s another reason I always loved fall so much.
It’s also the time of year when the holidays begin — food and fellowship with family and friends.  Those who know me know that I’m all about those two things – both sets of things! ;-) It is a season of endless celebration – feel good, and I love that too.  It’s not that one cannot do those things on their own whenever they want, but something happens during this time of year when the entire country collectively begins to get into the holiday mind-set.  The spirit seems uplifted.  At least, I notice it the further into the season we get.
A friend told me last week that she felt pumpkins in the air, and I smiled and added, “apple cider too.”
Then, my husband and I were out doing an errand the other day and saw our first leaf fall from a tree that had begun its transitional process of turning those vibrant autumn colors.  One of a few first signs that the changes are slowly taking place as one season hands the crown over to another.  
And, the days are getting shorter.  This is, perhaps, my least favorite thing about autumn, but there are trade-offs.  The sweltering, oppressive heats of summer have died down now, so who can complain?
The school year is about to begin here in Virginia — new opportunities.  There always seems to be heightened energy for me when September rolls around.  The lazy days of summer are behind us and football season is about to begin, sweater weather is approaching and apple picking time is at hand.    There are hay rides to enjoy, pumpkin carvings to get ready for, and fall craft festivals to prepare to peruse.   The excitement is building in our house!
Skyline Drive will soon be looking like a house a fire as the leaves begin to change to red, yellow and orange and take on a blazing effect of glory along the crest of the Blue Ridge Mountains in the Shenandoah National Park.  It’s 105 miles of splendor that has 75 overlooks of that valley.   It’s a camper’s or day-tripper’s paradise.
I think we may just have to pack a picnic lunch, grab the puppies and a couple of blankets and take a trip over when the leaves are in full blaze mode.  If you’ve never seen it before, it is a sight to behold at any time of year but especially during the autumn season.  I’ll take a picture and post it so you can see what I mean.
It’s September 1st and the summer is winding down as autumn prepares to take center stage.   Pick some apples! Carve some pumpkins!  Savor the cool breezes when they come.  Have coffee on the porch with a friend.  Wrap up in a blanket, in the evening with your significant other.  It’s all good. I can’t wait for the fall festivities to commence!  Happy September!

England's Rose

                                                   This is my favorite picture of Princess Diana.

                                                   Diana, Princess of Wales Rose

                                                                   Beautiful Diana

“Everyone of us needs to show how much we care for each other and, in the process, care for ourselves.”   ~Princess Diana

“I live for my sons. I would be lost without them.” ~Princess Diana

  BBC Announce the death of Princess Diana
  NBC News Bulletin Announcing Princess Diana’s Death
  Goodbye England’s Rose~Elton John
 Diana - Princess of Wales
 Princess Diana ~ Goodbye Mummy
  Princess Diana Interview w/Martin Bashir Part 1
   Princess Diana Interview Part II
  Princess Diana Interview Part III
  Princess Diana Interview Part IV
  Princess Diana Interview Part V
  Princess Diana Interview Part VI
  Princess Diana Interview Part VII

Sixteen years ago, the world lost “The People’s Princess” as she’s come to be known.  I remember that weekend as if it were yesterday — surreal.  That’s how it felt.  It still feels that way.  I wanted to write about it today, and have spent a great deal of time in quiet reflection thinking back on her and my thoughts of her, but the words just haven’t wanted to come.  That’s alright.  Sometimes, things are too much to put into words, and it’s best not to try and force it lest you diminish it in some way.   Suffice it to say, the death of Princess Diana is one of those visceral moments in the consciousness of the world — like when President Kennedy or Martin Luther King Jr., Bobby Kennedy, Elvis, and John Lennon all died: you remember exactly where you were and what you were doing when you got the terrible news that a rare and bright light had been tragically and too-soon extinguished.  The same holds true for the Princess of Wales.
I often wonder what else she would have accomplished with her life had she lived?  She seemed in a good place in 1997.  Happy.  At least, she looked happy, and that was a nice thing to see after so much sadness and turmoil of the previous years she’d spoken of.  It was such a senseless ending to a life that still held so much promise.
I admired her, and like the rest of the world, I miss her.  There was a kindness about her.  You saw it so clearly in interviews.  I also thought she showed courage in the way that she carried herself.  She was a grace note.  Soft.  Tender.  Beautiful.  That’s how I remember her, and I remember one of her favorite quotes that I have adopted as one of my own.  I can still hear her in my mind, reciting it in an interview I watched her give once, a long time ago.  They are the words of Adam Lindsay Gordon and they gave great insight into the heart of Diana Spencer Windsor, Princess of Wales, England’s Rose — The People's Princess-The Queen of Hearts: “Life is mostly froth and bubble, two things stand like stone: Kindness in another's trouble, Courage in your own...”

Princess Diana, Prince William & Prince Harry

                                             Diana's Final Resting Place on Althorp Estate

Katrina

“Smile, breathe and go slowly.” ~Thich Nhat Hanh

If it doesn't challenge you, then it doesn't change you.

 My City of Ruins~Bruce Springsteen
 Hurricane Katrina Video
 New Orleans Wins the War~Randy Newman

Eight years ago today, one of the five deadliest and the most costly natural disaster in the history of the United States made its second landfall in Louisiana and Mississippi.  Her name was Katrina.  She was a wicked girl that packed a mighty and brutal punch.  Between the hurricane and subsequent floods, more than 1830 people died, which made Katrina the deadliest hurricane since the one which hit Okeechobee in 1928. The damage she caused was estimated at $81 billion dollars — three times that of 1992's Hurricane Andrew.  Think about that.  THREE times what Hurricane Andrew cost.  Andrew had been a BAAAAD boy that had wrought a LOT of damage back in 1992.  At the time when he hit, Andrew was the most costly hurricane in the history of our country.  Who would have EVER thought that one would triple it?  Yet, one had.
Katrina began as a Category 1 hurricane in the Bahamas on August 23, 2005.  As she crossed into southern Florida, she brought flooding and caused a few deaths in her wake before moving out into the Gulf of Mexico where her wrath intensified into a Category 5.
I remember thinking when I heard that on the news that it had become a Category 5: “God help the people in the path of this monster!” Then, I prayed.
I once read an account of someone who had lived through a Category 5 hurricane saying it was as if the gates of hell had opened up and it was coming for you.  I cannot image that, and I grew up in Florida.  I’ve lived through my share of hurricanes.  A Category 5 though is something I can’t fathom.
At the time when Katrina hit, I was living in Maryland.  I’ll never forget waking up on that Monday morning, having my coffee as I got ready for work and hearing that Katrina had  weakened during the night down to a Category 3, before it had made landfall in southeast Louisiana. {Thank God it had weakened.} The main concern was New Orleans, which already sat six feet below sea level.  The other concern was the levees.   Both concerns would prove to be founded.  The levee system catastrophically failed—53 of them were breached as a result of Katrina’s storm surge, flooding 80% of the city.  I gulp as I type that.  I cannot imagine 80% of the city that I live in being flooded!
I remember watching images of New Orleans on the news, as the waters rushed into the city from the breached levees, coupled with the rains.  The levels rose higher and higher along the streets and into the buildings.  I tried to imagine it.  Where do you go when water just keeps coming at you?  Rising up.  Up.  Up. The attic?  The roof?  Are they high up enough to sustain you?  What do you grab first?  Of course, I’d toss our cell phones and my husband’s wallet into my purse, throw that over his shoulder and tell him to take them all to the attic with our puppies.  I’d also give him the emergency bag that’s got bottled water, peanut butter, crackers, canned fruit, batteries, a flashlight, and a few other incidentals to take up as well.  Then, I’d look around for what I’d take.
Would I have any time to consider what I’d take up with me?  How do you decide something like that with belongings that you’ve shared with your husband for 18+ years?  Certainly, I’d want the family photos.  Important papers would be needed.  I know I’d want the quilt my grandmother made for me.  Then, there’s the wedding ring quilt we received as a gift back when we got married.  I definitely would want that.  There are hand towels that a friend made.  She stitched butterflies on them.  I’d want to take them with me.  I couldn’t leave behind the unity candle that my husband and I lit during our wedding ceremony.  Oh, and there’s the vase that my grandmother left me that’s made of Fenton Glass.  She got it as a wedding present 77 years ago when she married my grandfather.  And, there’s a carnival glass bowl that belonged to my Granddaddy Bosher that was also left to me that’s close to 100 years old. There’s a framed picture of me that my mother took when I was about three years old playing in the front of my playpen in the yard.  She entered it in a contest years ago and won a blue ribbon for it.  I couldn’t leave that behind.  I also have an eagle that belonged to my father.  He received it when he was promoted to IST of the Union where we worked. It means a lot to me.  Then, there’s the large cedar box that’s filled with all the love letters that my husband wrote to me during our courtship. That’s a must to go anywhere I go.  How in the world is a person suppose to make a choice as to what is the most important thing or two or three to take?   I can’t imagine having to do it —  having to make that kind of decision in such a short time frame as water was gushing into my home.
As I’ve thought back on the terrible tragedy and devastation that Katrina brought with her rains and storm surges, with the flooding she created, the accidents she caused as well as the power outages – the panic and fear she left so many thousands of people in during that awful summer day, I felt an extra sadness today as I reflected upon it.   I just returned from New Orleans a week and a half ago, where I spent a special week with family and friends celebrating my 50th birthday. It was our first visit to NOLA.   It was a grand time.  The city was alive and vibrant.  I looked for signs–traces of what had transpired there in 2005.   I didn’t see any.  Of course, we were in the French Quarter, and I understand that it didn’t sustain a great deal of physical damage.  I didn’t venture over to the 9th ward where many of the locals say the landscape has not fully recovered or other areas outside the city that were devastated and haven’t come completely back to life.   I heard that musicians have steadily been returning to the area, which is a good thing.  But, for those who say that the magic is gone, that is something that I most definitely did NOT see.  Granted, it was my first visit to New Orleans, however, I know what magic looks like and feels like.  NOLA has still got it.  It might not be the same as it once was prior to August 29th 2005, but nothing can sustain major destruction to the core of who or what it was and not be altered.  It’s unrealistic to think that what happened in New Orleans eight years ago didn’t forever change in some small way a little of what once was.  Almost 2,000 lives were lost and many, many dark days, weeks, months followed in the aftermath of that catastrophe.  That changes a person and a town, but it doesn’t erase what was – not the heart of it.  If a place is strong, it can and will survive.  From what I saw when I visited NOLA, the ties that bind it are strong, and its people are resilient.  It’s like a phoenix rising from the ashes — when it rises up, it’s better and stronger than it was.  Hundred year old Magnolia trees standing firmly planted in the ground were grand testament to that fact.
I discovered a city bustling with people who were excited to be there, because they were in love with their city.  I tasted food that was rich with the flavor and tradition that is only found in that region.  I heard jazz that was so good, I’m still smiling about it!  I met locals who were both fascinating and enchanting.  Katrina may have battered and bruised New Orleans eight years ago, but she did not destroy the spirit of that town nor the wonder or magic that I felt when I visited.  It’s going to take more than a hurricane to destroy the indomitable spirit or fortitude of those who live in the Big Easy — MUCH more...

  What A Wonderful World~Louis Armstrong