Here comes the bride

Granddaughter Morgan married Justin on Saturday. She has always been Grampie's girl. We feel so fortunate to be able to live long enough to witness this event and see them begin married life together.

The church wedding was beautiful and meaningful. The reception for over 200 was at her brother's rustic event barn that he himself built on the farm, where Jackson helps daddy feed the cows, chickens and explores.  

 Jackson was the ring bearer. He looked so cute in his little suit and yellow bow tie to match the grooms men's. He has the same work ethic as his daddy. When Kyle was little, and to this day, he cannot sit still; he is always working, doing, building etc.

Sunday morning the family helped clean up, remove table cloths, flowers, candles, and fold up tables and chairs. Little Jackson picked up a broom and cleaned the floor. Then he moved the wedding signs that were placed on the road to direct traffic. He carried them one by one, bigger than he was, and moved them from one wall to the other and stacked them up. 

He is adorable and he is going to be a big brother next spring. Mama Abby is due on Mother's Day.

Thankful for family.

 

From spring flowers to fall decor

 This is my favorite fall decoration. This happy scarecrow, displayed on our front door, greets visitors. 

Today was the perfect day to hang my little friend, as the weather has just broken from highs in the high 90s and 100 some days...all summer it seems. 

Today it is in the 70s and the doors and windows are flung open. The outdoor air feels like a carress.

Bird chatter and passing cars sound amplified. The cat dashes to the door to see what he heard rustling in the bushes outside. 

Fall has arrived. Tomorrow I will settle on the patio and catch up on my reading.

Hope you are enjoying cooler weather and the changing seasons. I will soon replace the pink florals of spring with the rusts, oranges, and golds of fall. Our pink roses are having one last hurrah.

Hope you enjoy an autumn poem I had published years ago in Quivre River Anthology about my best long distance (now late) friend of 47 years. 

 

Hitching a Ride on a Song

 Bacon sizzles on wisps of wood smoke and weaves through autumn leaves in hues so bright it makes me squint. 

Outside my best friend’s cabin, I watch the morning sun scorch the surface of Newfound Lake and ignite the tree-tops as a breeze dumps treasures at my feet like contraband from a bad boy’s pockets

Enthralled at the frisky fall foliage, I set my coffee mug down and imagine slurping cherry Kool-aid out of the red sugar maples,swallowing the butterscotch nectar of yellow elms, sucking fire-orange extract from burnished oaks,and tinting my tongue with evergreen elixir.

I guzzle a gallon of happiness; in one sweet swill I devour my morning blend. Loons in love stir the stillness as my dear friend wanders onto the porch searching for me and her short term memory.

She hovers over my shoulder. I silently curse her brain cancer. She raises her voice, lowers her head, draws her robe tightly and belts out an old Janis Joplin song from our youth.

 “Oh Lord won't you buy me a Mercedes Benz…”  Our voices blend, peal over the New Hampshire White Mountains, tumble down a lush meadow
quiver on a stream, bottom out in
a valley and echo through the woods –
a timeless melody hitchhikes on her long-term memory, and for a moment we are vibrant, young, climbing mountains, swimming seas, rocking babies, traipsing across tundra as we did when we met as next door neighbors in Alaska. Sheila and me.

Rowing, rowing, rowing down the river

Granddaughter Ashley and her husband Justin
packed the car and loaded the boys Liam, 12; Alex, 9; Charlie, 8 into the back seat and off they went for a weekend of camping. 

What a wonderful family experience. I am so grateful the boys get to explore and enjoy these outings in nature. They each have small kayaks, and it appears they have also rented a canoe for this trip.

I asked if they had fun. Ashley replied, "Yes, until the inflatable mattress deflated at 2:00 a.m. So we headed for the car to sleep. Hit the river after breakfast. Stopped on a sandbar at lunch. Couldn't eat the water logged sandwiches. The snacks were okay. On the river all day." 

"Charlie knows how to steer the kayak. His first time and he did so well. We packed up in the evening, stopped at McDonald's, and the exhausted boys passed out in the car. We had so much fun! Especially Liam." 

Now that is a positive attitude. A fine day spent on an Missouri Ozarks waterway, and exploring  caves, inlets, riverbanks. These are the times they will fondly remember.

 Charlie is a Cub Scout and is so excited. Liam joined a school video gaming club and he also plays trombone. Alex is still deciding what direction he wants to go. I am grateful for our healthy, happy great grandson explorers.

REMEMBERING

When I was teaching, I could make the drive to school in fifteen minutes. On this day twenty-five years ago, I stood before my television and watched the first plane hit one of the twin towers. Horrific accident, I thought. As I parked at school, the radio announcer reported the second hit. My heart fell. 

I rushed into the middle school building, (my PreK classroom was housed on the lower level) a few older students in the hall were panicking and shouting that the US was under attack. My efforts to calm them were futile. 

Rushing to my preschoolers, who were unaware of the situation, I made certain they were in good hands with my wonderful assistant Amy.

I felt compelled to do something. Grabbed my scissors and cut red, white and blue construction paper strips, (like we used to make holiday chains), headed to the main school, and without prior approval, I walked into each classroom, introduced myself and told the students that they could each have a strip of paper to write exactly what they were feeling. Stated I didn't want strong profanity, but wouldn't object to mild swearing, and I didn't care about spelling or grammar. 

"You must release your feelings. I am going to roll each strip into a loop and make a bulletin board size American Flag with your words on each strip. Please look for your words when you go into the lunch room, and please do not destroy YOUR display."

I rolled each strip into a loop and stapled them to the large bulletin board: alternated stripes of red and white loops and created a blue area for stars to make a 3-D American flag.

At lunch, students walked in instead of plowing through. They paused to find "their" words, expressions of fear, anger, and worry. They talked to one another. Typically, the lunchroom bulletin board displays in the inner city school were destroyed no sooner than they were decorated. This day the students were reserved and actually interacted respectfully. 

The Feelings Flag remained intact for more than a week, and then one by one the strips began disappearing as the students claimed their feelings. Our lives were forever changed that day. My story, The Feelings Flag, was published in 2016 in Chicken Soup for the Soul, The Spirit of America on page 26.

                            **************

Years later we were on a cruise, seated at a dining table with a man named Daniel and his wife Farzana. Daniel's kind expression spoke volumes. His impish smile and greeting were sincere. When he shared his life story, six other tablemates were mesmerized by his voice and story. Both still resonate. This is a tribute to Daniel V.

He worked at the airport Port Authority of New York, and he also was a New Jersey police officer. Now retired.

On 9/11/01, he rushed to the Twin Towers with his partner, and together they climbed many flights of stairs to rescue trapped individuals. His voice cracked as he recalled the details. "Number one rule, never leave your partner." He choked up. "I left my partner. I found an elderly woman on a stairwell and I carried her many flights out of the building before the collaspe. My partner did not make it. Overhwelmed with guilt, I stayed drunk for a year. Then I got sober. My grandmother told me, 'Daniel, think of it as you being someone's angel instead of abandoning your partner. You saved that woman's life.' "

My throat tightens on this day REMEMBERING, remembering, remembering...