Mother's Day didn't seem to be Mother's Day Off

As one might expect, my Mother spent Mother's Day providing music. She plays the cello in a string trio, and they played at several church services today -- "That Wonderful Mother of Mine" plus hymns. It's not in her nature to sit back and expect pampering on Mother's Day.

But she did get a bit of pampering at a big family dinner which my sister-in-law Julie prepared in the evening, Of course, that dinner was a project requiring initiative by another mother. I also saw several mothers and grandmothers at church who seemed not to be taking a day off from motherly activities. Though they may have received a little more appreciation than normal. I don't know a lot of mothers who loll about all day waiting to be catered to on Mother's Day. I think I might have tried to make breakfast in bed for my mother once, but I don't think that this was ever her idea of a desirable activity. Not very efficient. Could be doing something more productive.

I was thinking earlier in the day about how different my mother, my mother-in-law, my grandmothers, my aunts and the mothers of my friends were from each other as I was growing up. Yet they all had a certain core of motherliness. And each had special qualities which enhanced my life. I feel very fortunate today to still have my mother and my mother-in-law. And I am grateful to have known so many other great women whose special qualities and actions made some aspect of motherliness memorable to me.

I also got an unexpected reminder of the importance of fathers today, especially for teenagers. And David saved the day for me by staying with the kids in the nursery at church while I was presenting music, a lesson and an activity for the older children (more kids than I expected) with the mother of two of them. We read a poem about Mother Love as one of God's gifts to us. I asked what kinds of people provide Mother Love. One boy told us solemnly about a girl he knew whose mother had died when she was 3 years old "so her grandmother is the only mother she has ever known". A ten-year-old boy in our group lost his mother just a few months ago. His grandmother is like a mother to him, and he and his siblings also get a lot of support from their nearby aunt and uncle as well as other family. This seemed especially important today. He and the other children all took special care in preparing their Mother's Day pictures to take home.

David had a little help from a young (pre-teen) mother-in-training, a sister of one of the young ones. They only lost one toddler, a visitor who missed his Nana too much to stay and play with the others. She just had something special, probably related to motherliness.

Auld Lang Syne

Today's a day for looking back and forward. Elizabeth Scalia and Peggy Noonan with some great thoughts on the song.

For us personally, it's been an interesting year. We've had some challenges and lots of blessings. There have been an unusual number of marriages in the family this year, and we've gotten to meet some new family members. David just got an interesting new job. All in all, I feel pretty grateful right now. We won't be going out, but Ken brought us some sparkling cider with which to "tak a cup o' kindness". Maybe tonight, maybe tomorrow.

Dougie MacLean with all the lyrics to the great old song here. It really is remarkable that this song has stuck with us through changes in culture and language. I think that's a good thing. Here's Guy Lombardo's instrumental if you want to sing it yourself. Another interesting tradition.

Hope everyone is looking forward to a bright New Year.

If you want something a little different for New Years Day, you might try Blackeyed Pea Confetti Salad

Goodbye to Kodachrome

A nice history of Kodachrome, with thoughts about its place in our emotions, here.

The story of Kodachrome is a romance itself, an odd intersection of the worlds of science and music.

Dad, the professional, preferred Kodachrome over all other films for slides, because of its color saturation and archival quality.

Somewhere along the line, I lost a roll of Kodachrome which contained images from a trip Mom and I took with Marianne and David, when David was quite small. Guess I'll just have to carry the images in my "sweet little 'magination". Dang, he was a cute kid.

One image I remember framing was little David in a yellow slicker which was too big for him, walking in misty rain along a boardwalk over mud flats between steamy hot pools in Yellowstone. He was cute even enveloped in yellow. We sang "How Much Is that Doggie in the Window", with variations, in the car. That wasn't on the film, but it's still an image in my head.

Thanksgiving Remembrances

The links from last year's post still seem to be good. Some good thoughts by eloqueant people

Ray Bradbury - "At play in the fields of the Lord"

I ran across this interesting article on the life and philosophy of Ray Bradbury. He's an original.

Ray's best friend growing up was Ed Barrerra, who was once my landlord.  Ed was an orphan, taken in by the family of his future wife in Los Angeles. Ray and Ed sometimes skipped school and went to the lots in Hollywood and hung around on movie sets, or sneaked into the theater. Ed's wife, Clara, thought that Ray was "crazy" when they were young - when he had some of the wild ideas which were later developed in his science fiction books. He didn't have as much schooling as you might expect for a famous writer.

Both he and Ed were drafted during World War II and went to Europe. Ray stopped driving after the war. When he came to visit Ed at our little duplex in the barrio, it was with a chauffeur, in a big cream-colored limousine. He often wore white shorts and knee socks.

He was a faithful friend to Ed as Ed's health deteriorated from rheumatoid arthritis and Parkinson's disease. I saw him a few times, and he always seemed to have some new and different project in the works. I'm happy to hear that he's still around and still has a zest for life.

Speaking of "zest", we have some zesty and delicious summer fruits on now. Descriptions here.

Take a Break, Think about Home

From Sippican Cottage:

I was reading Essays In Idleness by Kenko. He was dead in 1350. . . .


. . . the personal essay is tie that binds us.


I hate the term: blog. It's ugly, and it's come to mean something even uglier than the sound of it. It's become the minor leagues of hate. I write personal essays here. Zuihitsu. It might not be noble, but a person has little to offer to others but knowledge of which they are sure. "I am an expert in the affairs of all men" is the banner of the professional politician and their toads. Not hardly.


Why am I wandering in the few moments between exhaustion and sleep in the dusty stacks of an alien culture dead and buried for seven hundred years? To find a kindred spirit. . .


I have never been in a hotel room as comfortable and pleasant as my own bedroom, and I have been in Presidential Suites before. Money can't fix the problem, and the availability of money without the governor of a framework of rules to expend it almost always makes things worse.


Our post-modern zeitgeist evangelizes that rules of any sort that govern personal behaviors or the appearance of our surroundings or entertainment are stultifying and worthy only of mindless opposition. The unthinking rejection of all tradition leads to a counterintuitive outcome: a set of rules, much more stringent than what they replaced, will replace the old ones, and they will consist of the worst possible alternative to what was there before.


. . . How else can I explain a Japanese man writing about my house, and the house you should be living in, in the fourteenth century?

From our own unfashionable but comfortable home and garden:

Interesting Tomatoes, both old and new varieties
Assorted garden gifts and a dog
BIG tomatoes
Ripe Green Tomatoes

And recipes for garden vegetables:
Skillet Lasagna with Zucchini
Grandma's Chili Sauce

Some thoughts on happy children and expectations

Independence Day, Observed

Well, they're not fireworks, but they go well with an Independence Day celebration. We've got some fruit, too. We had to keep the dogs calm with the fireworks in the neighborhood last night, and will again tonight. Otherwise, it's been a fairly quiet holiday so far. The Fourth fell on Sunday this year, so today is Independence Day, Observed.  We did hear some fine thoughts about our country yesterday.

The forecast is for 99 degrees today - kind of hot for complex activities. But that doesn't keep us from being thankful for our favorable circumstances.

Here are some links concerning the Declaration of Independence and Independence Day. For your enjoyment and contemplation. They include some ideas about making your holiday more meaningul.  There's some fine writing at the links, both historical and current, plus some videos.  I was especially interested in what Wretchard, an Australian, said about the Declaration.  Sometimes it's easy to take our country and our freedom for granted.  We need to fight this impulse.