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

Thanksgiving Remembrances

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

Happy Easter

Not a bad Easter Day here.  Nothing earth-shaking, which is usually a good thng.   Conference was on TV - some things to ponder, and some lovely music, too.  Hopeful music - before, during and after the conference sessions.  Including a choir performance in a big arena in a spectacular setting, which I had not seen before.

I fixed dinner for a bunch of men:  David, our nephew James, Ken, Elder Black and Elder Sanders.  The potato salad seems to have been the most popular item.  Kind of early in the year for potato salad.  It was the only thing I made today which required more than minimal effort.

James has moved in with us for a while, and has just gotten a job with a very irregular schedule.  But it's work.  We've also been in a mess around the house, moving things around for James, and for David's wall re-finishing projects.  David and James installed a new double door in the media room Friday.  The old one was poorly made.  It did not stand up to the weather.  And Troy the Giant Dog scratching when he wanted attention didn't improve the door's appearance, either.

It rained a little today, and more is forecast for tomorrow.  We can use it.   The air is fresh.  All the animals are O.K.  I got to talk on speaker phone with Keira, Wally, Lorilee and Sherm.  They're a little surprised about our tomato  project this year.   Lorilee talked about how people in Russia often leave the city for  country houses - tiny to large dachas -  in summer.  This may help account for the numerous open-pollinated tomato varieties from the former USSR.  Additionally, I imagine that with the food distribution problems in the old USSR, a lot of people informally shared tomato seeds with each other.  And the USSR did have some formal plant-breeding programs as well. 

Yesterday, our new neighbors brought over tamales, grilled meat and birthday cake (in three separate trips) from the big birthday bash held for their niece, a toddler.  The party featured big strings of ballons, rows of tables and chairs on the recently-poured patio slab and a bounce house for the kids.  The party got started early in the day and was pretty sizable by evening.  There were follow-up activities today for people who stayed overnight.  It's so interesting, this Mexican affection for huge parties for tiny people.  I went over for a few minutes.  It was windy, but the men barbecuing and the kids in the bounce house didn't seem to mind.  Nice people.

David and James are both becoming attached to the man of the house, also named David.  My David has helped them roof the house,  and he either helped with or lent them tools for other construction projects.  The neighbor David has sprayed weeds on the street side of our property and has introduced us to some new drip irrigation equipment.  He calls me "Mrs. Carolyn".  Or "Mrs. Caro".  Now that he knows me better.  "Caro" is my name to several friends in town.   They just all seem to decide eventually to call me that,   

It's nice to have neighbors again.  Neighbors who act like neighbors.  We have a lot to be thankful for today, especially with the message of Easter added in.     

George Washington's Birthday, 2010

Well, I haven't posted here since New Year's Eve and it's George Washington's Birthday already.

It's been a busy beginning of the year. We have (thankfully) had more rain than last year. But some  politicians,  bureaucrats and environmentalists are still set on dramatically limiting irrigation water to the West Side, despite the greater-than-normal rainfall. Our region's unemployment rate is likely to remain among the highest in the nation. One of the most productive food-growing areas in the world is being taken out of production. More wrangling ahead.

We also had some beautiful sunny days in January, sort of like Southern California January days. Then more rain, and chillier weather, even a little fog. Worrisome during apricot and peach blossom time. But we need the water.

Aunt Helen

Perhaps the most notable personal thing which has happened since the beginning of the year was our fond farewell to David's Aunt Helen at her funeral Saturday. She was staying with David when we got married, and she continued to stay with us for a while before moving in with David's Mom and Dad. David told the  people at the funeral about Aunt Helen's contented reaction to his insistence that she not wait for him to tell her what to do.  And he told the story about  her over-enthusiastic jump into the rocking chair, which went backward through the window.  She was lots of fun. We'll miss her a lot.  So will  other people.

At 92, though, she was ready to go home. She did not have an easy life.  She had developed some difficult health problems.

Her childhood was one of extreme poverty.   But you would not know it from her cheerful, straightforward, fun-loving manner. Nice to think of her with her husband, Uncle Pete, again.

We took a wrong turn on the Weedpatch Highway, on the way to the funeral, and saw the little town of Lamont near Bakerfield, where Aunt Helen once lived with Uncle Pete and their children. The town has nice homes behind fancy gates next to run-down trailers with goats in the front yard. It also features a refinery, and many typical elements of a hard-scrabble rural California town. When Aunt Helen and Uncle Pete were first married, they lived in a tent. Living in a home in Lamont was a big step up for them.

Trip to Utah

We went for another short trip to Utah early in the month. We got to see some wonderful mountain vistas and we went to a family birthday dinner celebration for Jake and  others at Rainbow Gardens, where I swam as a child, and where cousin Marie once got a nasty shin injury, as I recall. The swimming pools are gone now. The clientele got too rowdy. The bowling alley survived longer, but it's gone now, too. Rainbow Gardens has gone moderately up-scale.

The Ogden River runs under a corner of the building, and you can go onto the porch in the (now) gift shop and watch the water. An ancestor of the King Family which owns this establishment gave my grandparents credit for their photography business during the Great Depression.  They always expressed gratitude for this act of kindness.

We also got to visit with Keira, and we saw where Wally works.   I heard a book review at Mom's book club, in a beautiful home in the hills.  I took charge of their newly inherited little dog.

We took a look at the Felix home up the road from Mom.  It's for sale again.  Probably not an option for us at this time.  Big yard, big kitchen, out-dated, needs work.  Not that David couldn't do the work.

Music

Mom took us, and two of her friends, to a Utah Symphony Pops concert featuring Big Bad Voodoo Daddy  during the second half of the program.   The first half of the program featured standard Pops fare such as the Hungarian Dance No. 5, Sabre Dance and the Beautiful Blue Danube.  The conductor, David Cho, was chatty and engaged in a little Pops-type comedy - even juggling during the "Dance of the Comedians".  They played a Big Band medley.  It was all great.

The guest artists were refreshingly non-nihilistic and non-whiny for contemporary pop music - mostly a Big Band "retro" sound with other jazz and contemporary flavors. They're rather self-promoting showmen. Tons of energy. They did some familiar Cab Calloway pieces. They involved the audience as singers in some of them. Noisy. Fun, brash, theatrical, but not the ultimate in musicianship. It was an interesting cultural encounter for many regular symphony patrons. Some felt open-minded listening to this group.  Others were not sure quite what to think. Mom's friend Valeen said  "I don't like being yelled at".  I can barely imagine what their reaction would be to, say, Lady GaGa.

Big Bad Voodoo Daddy's original works are no match for, say, Gershwin. Still, I think it's nice that they are successful. Although they've been doing the rounds with pops orchestras, I have a feeling that the "Big Bad Voodoo Daddy Experience" would be more suited to a nightclub stage than to a sliver of stage in front of a big orchestra. When they played with the larger group, the effect was sometimes a bit ponderous.  One interesting effect was their use of bass and tenor (I think) saxophones playing the same notes. Gave an interesting depth to certain licks.

The symphony's chief clarinetist plays Big Band pieces with more finesse than the famous guest artists did. He's doing an Artie Shaw retrospective concert at a synagogue in Salt Lake soon. We spoke with him backstage before the performance.

I also went with Mom to one of her music clubs, and heard an interesting lesson on the musical sons (and a grandson) of J.S. Bach. I hadn't given them enough credit in the past, I think. One, the "London Bach", was Mozart's mentor, and some of his work sounds like early Mozart. Another wrote pieces which sound more like Haydn, yet another used counterpoint in a way which differed a little from his father's use of this musical style. They deserve to be known as more than the children of J.S. Bach. The family apparently dominated the musical world in Germany for some time.

We also heard a summery Lullaby by contemporary American composer George Winston. Sheet music can be bought and printed online. I think I might even be able to learn it.

On the Home Front

Back home, David's been tearing parts of the house apart and putting them back together, better. I've planted way more tomato seeds than we can use.  That good January weather looked so promising, and it's the standard time for planting tomato seeds here - even a week or two late, actually.  I planted some other things, too. We'll see how they do through the coming storms.

 David and I have both had persistent respiratory infections, like a lot of people in town.  We're starting to get back up to speed.

I buried our shy, shy kitty Brewster today. I think he had been hit by a car.  David saw a cat he though looked like Brewster at the edge of the road a ways from the house, and I went to check.  Sure looked like Brewster, though I couldn't find the knot that had always been on his tummy (the Vet didn't seem concerned - don't know what it was).  I didn't look too hard, though.  He had been feeling a little punky before he disappeared a couple of days ago, I think.  But he was still eating, etc. He had let me pick him up and pet him a few times during the last couple of weeks, which was rare behavior for him. But he was terrified when I took him in the house, and he would not let me look into his face. He was being extra affectionate with the other cats toward the end of his life, too.

He was too shy to have been a full-fledged "pet" - one of those cats who sometimes panic when you try to pet them and nearly die of fright on a trip to the vet.  But it's nice to have a half-wild cat around. Especially a gentle one. We'll miss him.

We've learned of some very serious challenges  for friends.  One young friend has just undergone a bone marrow transplant for a rare blood disorder.  She's grateful for the chance of a cure.  Another friend's grandson was born with displaced organs.  She was highly touched by a nurse who expressed appreciation for being able to help families with problems like these.

We need to count our blessings.  Loving family and friends, people who help, rain, etc., etc.

Happy New Year!

Tending skittish dogs tonight - they're afraid of fireworks and firearms. Not very New Years Eve-ish. But no matter. There's a "blue moon" tonight: the second full moon of the month. We can listen to Ella Fitzgerald.

We've had an interesting week: the furnace went out on Christmas Eve day and David did a not-to-subtle reindeer imitation on Christmas morning - stomping on the roof when he got stuck after the ice re-froze while he was up there. I squirted it down again and he made it off the roof safely - only slipping once. He needed a part, so our heat was mostly from baking in the oven and from a little parabolic space heater in the bathroom. It was almost enough. Makes you think about how much you heat the house up in the summer when you turn on the oven. David got the part Monday - 5 days (well, counting part-days) of a cool-ish house. I was glad we weren't in North Dakota.

My Christmas morning heating project was baking cornbread. David and Ken had some with pinto beans for breakfast. I made cornbread dressing and marinated broccoli salad to take to David's Mom and Dad's for Christmas Dinner. Prime rib, 4 kinds of pie, etc. Lots of people there. Lots of conversation. Since I can't eat corn, I made some bread dressing for myself with a little leftover bread from Christmas, fresh sage, onions, celery and chicken broth, but I didn't take it to dinner. There was plenty of food there.

Since I got some people cardamom pods for Christmas, I made some orange-cardamom pumpkin bread on Saturday to warm up the house, and some butter-pecan applesauce bread (recipe needs a little work). I decided that a tiny mortar and pestle was not sufficient for crushing cardamom seeds, and I discovered that tapping it with a hammer in a heavy plastic bag (from a cracker box) works much better. Feels sort of primitive to go out to the garage to beat spices to powder. But it's much less primitive than the actual primitive task of grinding grains with a smooth rock. We take so many things for granted.

We've got ham for tomorrow. I got blackeyed peas and a Pasilla pepper for this New Year's Salad.

The doggie logistics have dumbed me down for now. Don't feel like doing much. At the moment, I have Lucky and Troy. David has Maggie. Our geriatric dogs, Sparky and Dottie, are getting deaf and so far they're O.K. in their usual hangouts. Sparky may need to come in later. Little Buddy is not afraid of the noise, and stays in the big doghouse with his little heater. Things are fine, but not exactly festive.

I'm not feeling too philosophical right at the moment, either. But I found some interesting images and music before Christmas which you might like. And then some information about Hanukkah, if you're up for a little deeper thought. Or, for a more personal topic, an Alternative to New Years Resolutions, The Uberlist.

Hope everyone has a great year.

The Sometimes Bumpy Road to Progress

Before we left on our last whirlwind trip to Utah, we heard a story in church about a one-eyed, non-flying pet crow. After attaching a dog kennel to the crow's cage to allow her more freedom during the day, the crow's "daddy" would hear her screeching at sundown, clinging to the side of the wire kennel, unable to find her way back home to her comfy cage. He would have to unhook her claws from the wire and put her back in her home. In her anxiety, she resisted leaving the side of the kennel. Sometimes we are the same way. God wants us to move on to a better place, but we "cling to the wire". Sometimes when we "let go of the wire", progress comes in fits and starts.

While David was talking to people at a foothill facility in Utah, I got out of the car and was met by the most fearless Magpie I have ever seen. Glossier and fatter than the one here. It took food from my hand, even though I was a complete stranger. It flew around, showing off and flirting. And following its interests. Magpies are related to crows, and this one sort of looked like a medium-sized crow with prettier plumage. Quite a contrast to the story about the pet crow stuck to the wire in fear. Kind of uplifting.

David had a wonderful interview, but he did not meet all of the qualifications for the job. I was great to see Mom again. We went home in light spirits. Since that time, David has had another nice interview. When it's time, he'll find the right job.

He's back to work in the house. The sheetrock part is done and the kitchen arch rounded out. Now he's re-doing the surfacing and texturing in the living room and hall. What a mess. Things are piled up everywhere, covered in drywall dust, and the contents of some book cases and a hutch are in boxes. But the job that was done when the house was built has always bothered him, so I'm glad he's fixing it. I haven't been able to get into the office, the back bedrooms or the back bath for a few days. I'm taped into the media room right now. Things should look a lot better soon.

We've also been juggling dogs and cats in the recent wet weather (for which we are grateful). Princess Cat Darla accidentally came into the house while Troy the Giant Dog was inside, causing a big commotion and leading him to think for several days that she was still in the house. I winterized the Kitty Condo and made sure their heater was working. I put a kitty heater in the big dog house in back (Maggie, Troy and Little Buddy came in with me part of the time - it was a little crowded with the 4 of us). I set up a cold retreat in the garage for Sparky, who normally wants to be outside. Maybe it's his Husky/Labrador background. Huskies sleep in the snow, and Labradors were bred to retrieve fishing nets from the ocean. Brrr. He's getting unsteady on his feet and can't get his footing when he's lying on slick surfaces, so now he has a bumpy rubber mat and ridged fabric carpet. He's only wanted to come in on two nights, and I've still had to guide him into the garage against mild protest.

Troy and Maggie have stayed in the house with Lucky a couple of nights during the rain, leaving Little Buddy in the big dog house by himself. He gets separate snuggle time, as he still chews furniture and sometimes gets too playful when the other dogs want to rest. Old Dottie gets a kitty heater in her doghouse next.

We finally have new neighbors across the street, but the house next door is still vacant. Our princess kitty Darla is starting to think the house and yard next door belong to her.

Things are rather unsettled in the world at the moment, but President Obama gave a graceful speech in Oslo. He's on a learning curve, too, I think. On the lighter side of American media and politics, William Shatner and Sarah Palin read from each other's works on the Tonight Show. Maybe you remember Shatner's dramatic reading from Palin's Twitter posts, or his self-parody with "Rocketman".

But back to everyday life: At our fun Branch Christmas Party, the Cox family brought an entire "Polar Express" train painted by an artist friend on refrigerator boxes. The kids got to hear the story read to them in front of the train, while getting little treats. They also heard the Christmas Story via whispers from "Maurice", the shy camel hand puppet who belonged to one of the Wise Men. We sang carols and ate.

I made Spanish Green Beans and a big bowl of coleslaw very similar to this Christmas Coleslaw. I will post more lated on how I used the excess cabbage (bought too much for the party).

The Ongoing Thanksgiving Season

I've decided to expand that "Thanksgiving Feeling" to a longer season. No reason some of the thoughts and sentiments which Thanksgiving calls forward cannot be extended into the Christmas season. There is so much for which to be thankful.

And you really can't eat all the Thanksgiving Recipes on Thanksgiving. Already, our Thanksgiving has been stretched out. We were supposed to serve dinner to guests, then go over to David's parents' house for supper. But one of our guests locked herself out of her apartment, away from the Sweet Potato Pie, Cake, and Ham she had prepared. Another prospective guest took off to try to find a way to open the apartment. So we had company into the evening. But David still got some of his Mom's coconut pie on Friday. We missed Debbie, but saw Donny, Carmine, Mom, Dad and Aunt Helen.

This year, Ken brought a "complete dinner" again, so I just had to fill in with a few extra dishes. I made "boiled" ham, (a small butt portion ham) in an oval 6-quart slow cooker, pumpkin bread pudding, cauliflower and broccoli, and I tried to make this cornbread dressing, but got distracted and burned the cornbread and pecans. Later. I haven't made Dixie Salad yet, either.

Earlier, I posted on the Pilgrim's struggle against famine here. No matter how hard our economic circumstances are this year, things could be worse.

No time to write more now. Hope everyone continues to have a nice Thanksgiving-to-Christmas season.

Some interesting thoughts on Thanksgiving

From last year - Thanksgiving Proclamations and Thoughts.

This year, an academic piece on the importance of keeping gratitude at the center of Thanksgiving.

We are so blessed in this country. Quotes from a beautiful piece below:

This is indeed a big country, a rich country, in a way no array of figures can measure and so in a way past belief of those who have not seen it. Even those who journey through its Northeastern complex, into the Southern lands, across the central plains and to its Western slopes can only glimpse a measure of the bounty of America. . . .

So the visitor returns thankful for much of what he has seen, and, in spite of everything, an optimist about what his country might be. Yet the visitor, if he is to make an honest report, must also note the air of unease that hangs everywhere. . . .

We can remind ourselves that for all our social discord we yet remain the longest enduring society of free men governing themselves without benefit of kings or dictators. Being so, we are the marvel and the mystery of the world, for that enduring liberty is no less a blessing than the abundance of the earth. . . .

William Bradford, some years after the first Thanksgiving:

Thus out of small beginnings greater things have been produced by His hand that made all things of nothing, and gives being to all things that are; and as one small candle may light a thousand, so the light here kindled hath shone to many, yea in some sort to our whole nation; let the glorious name of Jehovah have all the praise.

Thanking Our Veterans

A Veteran knows things: He knows life is precious, because he’s seen
life cut short. He knows life is strange, because those that should die
live and those who have the most life sometimes die. He knows life is
not easily wrapped up in a box philosophically. He knows that plans
fail. He knows there’s such a thing as luck. A veteran chooses his hard
lessons and walks toward them.

Veterans at the World War II Memorial in Washington D.C. The video is kind of hard to get through without a tear or two. They were brought to the memorial by an organization dedicated to providing such trips. An American volunteer organization which de Toqueville might recognize as similar to the voluntary organizations of yesteryear which he thought were such an important feature of American culture. I expect that this organization would accept a donation from you.

Two songs, one for WWII and Korean vets, the other for Vietnam Vets. More tears for me, especially knowing some of the experiences David's Dad went through. And the trials that others in our families and among our friends have gone through. The website supports training for companion dogs for disabled veterans. Such a great idea. They accept donations. Or, there's this bipartisan effort, started on 11/11, to encourage 11 million Americans to donate 11 dollars to veteran support groups.

The VFW in our little town have been out handing out little poppies for donations for a couple of days now. I first saw them on the anniversary of the fall of the Berlin Wall. I always donate and pick up a couple of poppies, even though the fabric ones of today aren't as nice as the paper ones, handmade, they used to hand out.

Once, on a night train with Yvonne to Paris, I woke up in the early morning to see a field of poppies out the train window, just like the poppies in Flanders Fields. Kind of made the poem real to me. Europe has seen so much war over the centuries and suffered through two horrific wars in the last century. Right where I was at that moment, there may have been a battle in the past. Certainly there were battles not far from there. But the field looked peaceful from my train window in the dawn light.

I know it's not Memorial Day, but Veteran's Day also makes me think of Grandpa Smith, a chaplain in World War I. Flanders is, of course, in Belgium, from whence he was writing.

Hope your Veterans Day today is rich and meaningful.

Happy Halloween

Another little trip coming up. David's Mom and Dad will be staying at the house.

For Halloween, some professional-level pumpkin carvings. And a Catholic priest talks about the current vampire craze. Whoa. An artist carves Tigerhawk's face. Scared the kids, he says.

Update: We didn't get any trick-or-treaters. Too far from other (inhabited) houses, I guess. Tonight we "fall back" to standard time. An extra hour of sleep, which we will lose in spring.

The Patience of Hope

The title of this post is from Charles Wesley's hymn, Come Let Us Anew. "The Patience of Hope and the Labor of Love" are both important for our success, I think. We've been grappling more with the "Patience of Hope" part of this phrase recently.

The health problems among family and friends are less dramatic now. Debbie's husband is out surgery but still at risk. Cousin Kim's son took a shower recently for the first time after nearly dying of swine flu. Things are looking up for the branch members who were recently so ill. We had a lot of people at the "Munch and Mingle" Sunday.

We've been dealing with maddening bureaucracy pretty steadily for the last couple of weeks. But we've also gotten some help from people who know what they're doing. The kinds of bureaucratic laziness, aggressiveness and arrogance we have encountered are predictable. Especially in California at this time. But things are looking somewhat more positive. The elders gave David a blessing not long ago, and he now seems to have an increased ability to bounce back after encounters with hostile bureaucracy. His brother has retired and is relieved to have largely put similar problems behind him. He's coming to the Valley to pick up some corn and watermelons.

In other family news, "the other Carolyn" has produced a wonderful (according to Mom) retrospective program on the history of Ogden and the old Fox Egyptian theater. I didn't know she was involved in that sort of thing. Our Swiss friends Yvonne and Attila have a new granddaughter.

A couple of weeks ago in church, while the Stake Presidenty was visiting, we heard a a message on hope which stuck with me. Neal A. Maxwell in 1994:

. . . In the geometry of restored theology, hope has a greater circumference than faith. If faith increases, the perimeter of hope stretches correspondingly.

Just as doubt, despair, and desensitization go together, so do faith, hope, and charity. The latter, however, must be carefully and constantly nurtured, whereas despair, like dandelions, needs so little encouragement to sprout and spread. Despair comes so naturally to the natural man!

And again in 1998, during the time he was undergoing treatments for cancer:

Life’s disappointments often represent the debris of our failed, proximate hopes. Instead, however, I speak of the crucial need for ultimate hope.

Ultimate hope is a different matter. It is tied to Jesus and the blessings of the great Atonement, blessings resulting in the universal Resurrection and the precious opportunity provided thereby for us to practice emancipating repentance, making possible what the scriptures call “a perfect brightness of hope”

This week, we heard a message from the scriptures reminding us that sometimes we must be willing to leave behind some material things (and by analogy, misplaced emotional attachments, assumptions about the future and false hopes) in order to save our emotional, temporal and/or spiritual lives, We also had a great reminder that sometimes we should try prayers during which we only express thanks. Gratitude may be the antidote to grumpiness.

Good things to remember right now - a correct perspective on hope, with an emphasis on patience, and gratitude.

The weather has been fairly moderate for July here. I'm putting up some new tomato information and recipes, some with short cooking lessons, here.

There are posts on the 4th of July plus a week here and the "Glorious Revolution" more than 300 years ago in England here, if you're interested.

I discovered today which dog had been chewing the cord to the vacuum cleaner into short chunks. It's Maggie. She was scolded, given a lecture by David, then re-directed. So far, no recividism. Old Dottie today got some extra love for being such a perfect embodiment of patient hope - sitting quietly, looking up into my eyes with a steady gaze, waiting to be petted. Endearing.

Happy Independence Day

The "safe and sane" fireworks sales have been going on for a few days. "Free vacation package with every $300 purchase". Wow. And people have also been getting some fireworks which are not so "safe and sane", as usual for our rural area. If you're going to have a party, might as well make some noise.

Our two biggest dogs, Sparky and Troy, are the most afraid of fireworks. But Sparky's starting to lose his hearing. He came in Thursday night but stayed out last night. He'll probably need to come in again tonight. Troy gets frantic at the first booms. He doesn't try to get in the bathtub like Sparky used to do, though.

We've been dealing with ennervating heat and even more ennervating bureaucracy this week. Independence starts to sound good.

And so many of our friends and family have had health and personal challenges in the last two or three of weeks. In our little church branch, we haven't really had enough people to rally 'round those with emergencies. But we've done a lot of tag-teaming. Time to take a break to observe the 4th of July.

I've put up a Fourth of July post on history (good links on Lincoln and the Founders), also touching on current political themes, here.

Recipes and garden updates are here. Lots of tomatoes and squash in the garden right now. We've got Santa Rosa and Burgundy plums, and the July Elberta peaches are coming on. Even with all the problems in life, there remain a lot of things to celebrate. Have a great Fourth.

Memorial Day 2009

It's Memorial Day today. Last year, we participated in the memorial service at the city cemetery, where the avenues were lined with flags and each veteran's grave had a small flag. This year, David and I both have some sort of respiratory infection. I don't think it's the over-hyped Swine Flu, though cases have been reported nearby. The bug we have has not made us seriously ill, but sick enough to keep us from doing much. I even missed Dennis Prager's show, which I'm confident had some good Memoral Day content. I heard some snippets of militry music on NPR while running errands and read a National Memorial Day reminder on a friend's blog. Our other Memorial Day remembrances have been pretty much mental this year.

Growing up, our family remembered not just war dead and deceased veterans on this day, but also other people whom we had loved and lost. And those our grandparents wanted to remember. Like the Aunt who brought Great Grandma across the Atlantic when she was a motherless infant, with a goat to provide her with milk. It was a time to take precious peonies and lilacs from the garden to the cemeteries, and some years, the first of the roses. Mom called yesterday to tell me about the family's grave decorating trip over the weekend, coordinated by a thoughtful daughter-in-law. It's a nice way to remember those who have gone before us, I think.

It wasn't until I got a little older that I really understood that the day was really meant primarily to honor lost warriors. Peggy Noonan writes about fame in America, the behavior of heroes and why we tend to forget them. Via Maggie's Farm, Victor Davis Hanson's moving 2002 essay on some of the men who fought with his father's cousin, the man after whom he was named, in Okinawa:

. . . I also know that America has never quite produced a generation like those Marines who went up Sugar Loaf Hill — educated, idealistic, and as dangerous in war as they were benevolent in peace. Now in their eighties, their letters and voices seem strangely tranquil and with astuteness of a distant age that will not return, so at odds with the cacophony of the present. So on this Memorial Day and once more in a time of war, we Americans must be duly conscious of who they were, what they did, and how we must try to preserve and be worthy of what at great cost they have passed on.

Read the whole thing. Please.

One of the things those Marines (and many more like them) helped preserve was the culture of the delightful couple in the video linked here, of about the same vintage as the Marines. So fun to watch.

Update: Do not stand at my grave and weep. Makes me weep.

Valentine Hearts

It's Valentine's Day. David gave me lovely gifts in anticipation a couple of days ago, one a big red heart. But I've got a blue heart this morning, and so has he. I am disheartened with bureaucracy and government at the moment. On a better note, here's how Johnny Cash and Louis Armstrong handled the Blues. They say that playing Blues and similar melancholy music, then gradually brightening the mood of the music, can help lift your mood. Maybe I'll try it.

Update: O.K. Try these in sequence for mood-lifting: How Deep is the Ocean, My Funny Valentine and Side by Side.

Valentine's Day Thought from Wretchard:

“The day will come when, after harnessing space, the winds, the tides, gravitation, we shall harness for God the energies of love. And, on that day, for the second time in the history of the world, man will have discovered fire.”

Below, a sweet and schmaltzy poem from the comments. It's the thought that counts. Truly.

Daughters are special. Having a daughter makes a man feel like he accomplished something. I wrote this for my daughter a few Valentine’s Days ago, and offer it here to all Belmont Clubbers fortunate enough to be fathers of daughters.

TO MY DAUGHTER, ON SAINT VALENTINE’S DAY
The dawning paints the night sky pink

With rose and amber hue

To look at it I have to think

The morning loves you too.


The rising sun climbs in the sky

Too bright for us to view

Another reason I know why

The noontime loves you too.


As sunset draws the curtain low

And sky turns dusk from blue

I ken full well that this I know

The evening loves you too.


And as I trundle off to bed

I think always of you

And count the thousand times I’ve said

Your father loves you too.

Happy Saint Valentine’s Day

Walt Erickson

Thanks, Walt, for being a loving Dad. From a daughter who misses her own Dad.

Martin Luther King Jr. Day

Hope your Martin Luther King Day is meaningful.

Happy New Year!

I didn't post anything for Christmas, so I'm going to work backward here.

NEW YEARS RESOLUTIONS?

Normally, I don't pay much attention to New Years Day, but this morning while David was working on our friends' fence, I heard part of the second hour of Dennis Prager's New Years program. He talked about the power of New Years Resolutions. I usually don't put much stock in typical New Years resolutions, and it was interesting to hear his ideas and those of listeners. He got a surprise call from his Mom, who slyly reinforced the typical stereotype of a Jewish Mother by suggesting that maybe he could resolve to call her more.

Dennis favors setting three resolutions - one each for:

Happiness
Health
Character

Speaking of character development, I sent Our Sacred Honor by William Bennett to Mom for Christmas. She was impressed by how often individuals in the founding generation of our country thought about improving their personal character. Our Country's Founders is an adaptation for young adults.

Back to the subject of New Years Resolutions: Dennis maintains that resolutions are useful even if you may not be able fully keep them. He suggested that all-or-nothing thinking is usually an excuse for doing "NOTHING". Maybe I need to re-assess the usefulness of New Years Resolutions. He and callers also discussed the advantages of keeping a diary or journal, even if all you record is events. I hope I can work the blogging thing in to the "journal-keeping" ideal somehow. Otherwise, I'm still stuck at the stage of notes jotted on calendars.

The audio of today's program isn't up at his website yet, but here's an interesting hour on gratitude in trying circumstances and on how to deal with problems or sadness during the holidays. I heard part of the hour while David was with his Dad at the hospital for an angiogram and found it touching.

Update: Hour One, Hour Two and Hour Three of the New Years broadcast have been posted. Sometimes the holiday broadcasts get repetitious (as they are for radio). I would probably choose Hour Two if I were just going to listen to one of them.

So far, David and I have not done well at establishing any New Years Day traditions, let alone making resolutions. I can't get into the California Okie tradition of blackeyed peas with ham on New Years day. So I'm making blackeyed pea salad with a pound of frozen blackeyed peas, cooked until tender but firm. If you'd like to try it, use a classic 3-bean salad recipe, replacing the sugar in the dressing recipe with honey (measuring a little less than sugar in the recipe, preferably in the cup you used to measure the oil). Replace the green bell peppers in the recipe with deep green, slightly spicy Pasilla (Ancho, Poblano, etc) chiles, and maybe some red bell pepper. It all works together and looks festive. I can't eat much of it, as blackeyed peas tend to give me migraines. I bet the Pasilla chiles, red bell peppers, onions, honey and cider vinegar would also work well with garbanzo beans or even with little canned white or pink beans.

Recipe here.

NEW YEARS EVE - Preoccupied with dogs

New Years Eve, for me, now involves a goal of smug satisfaction that I am not out with unpredictable revelers. But we also must think about the dogs on noisy holidays. We stayed in again for New Years Eve last night, taking care of dogs frightened by the (illegal) fireworks and smatterings of gunfire nearby. Surprisingly, Sparky stayed in the doghouse, even though he usually wants to get in the house and even in the bathtub during fireworks. Maybe that insulation David put in the doghouse makes him feel safe. Dottie was in the garage. Reverse of the last night of fireworks in town (the big championship football game). Sparky started in the garage and ended up in the house. Dottie seemed content when she was in the dog house.

Sparky's hearing isn't what it used to be now, which may make it easier for him to tolerate fireworks than in years past. He once bent the gate in a chain-link fence in order to get into the house during a thunderstorm. He's really showing his age in a lot of ways now. He went to visit Troy and Maggie yesterday, and it was sweet to watch clumsy Troy's delicacy around Sparky, who is not so steady on his feet. In close quarters, excited dogs sometimes knock him over accidentally.

I think that Sparky and Troy are probably about the same weight, but Troy looks bigger because he is a little taller and hold his head high. Sparky, who is part Husky, has a heavy, big-chested sled-pulling build with a furry hump on his back like a grizzly bear. Our neighbor Emma still calls him "bear". Troy's more elegant coat with flowing tail feathers and other fancy touches make him look bigger than Sparky, too. Troy is almost as scared of fireworks as Sparky used to be. Odd to have two big dogs with the same excessive fear. Both Sparky and Troy have very soft undercoats, but Sparky's guard hairs are more wolf-like. There's such a variation in breeds of dogs. Maggie's soft, wavy coat resembles a Cocker Spaniel's even though she looks like a small, black German Shepherd.

CHRISTMAS TO NEW YEARS

Our Christmas day wasn't typical. We took the neighbor's formerly neglected little Chihuahua over to David's parents as a playmate for their Boston Terrier. He immediately knew he was home. We took the little heated house we made for him, where he normally ate, so he would get the idea that he was not being abandoned again. He had his first meal there inside the familiar little house. Soon, David's Mom was talking baby talk to him and he was seeking love from David's Dad. Previously, it had taken him quite a while to warm up to men, probably due to abuse earlier in his life. He was promptly named "Radar" for his huge ears (relative to the tiny rest of him). We also saw Debbie, Judy, Dan and Aunt Helen and passed out pillows.

Radar makes their rambunctious little Boston Terrier, Prissy, look huge. Prissy showed him how to navigate the ramp into the garden. He and Prissy got along well until a couple of days ago when he scolded her for something, causing her to temporarily avoid him. It's probably a good thing that he has the spunk to hold his own with her. Reports are that they now get along pretty well, though Prissy wants to eat Radar's dinner and hers, too. He's gaining weight and doesn't look so much like a death-camp survivor. Our inexperienced neighbors were well-intentioned when they took him in but were only feeding him once a day and expressed their frustration at trying to take care of him. They were thinking about taking him to the ASPCA. He's reportedly up to three hefty meals a day now and looking much better.

The Elders spent much of the day with us on Christmas, getting calls from home at our house. We had Ken, Suzy and Berta over for lunch and Marcela and Pauline for dinner. Thank goodness for frozen roll dough. I even got in a short nap while the Elders were watching their yearly G-rated video with the others before dinner.

Paula got baptized Sunday. I hemmed up her dress, hanging a coople of David's fishing weights inside the hem at the side seams in little cloth packets (didn't have any drapery weights) so that the skirt wouldn't float up. David thoroughly cleaned the font Saturday, discovering years of dirt on top of the mirror hanging above the water. It was a nice baptism.

Looking for Rudolph

Ready for a few bits of fun? Via Tim Blair: This dog gives us an idea what our Dotty might have been like before David brought her home, already an old lady. This dog also reminds us of the exuberance of our dear, departed Snickers. Snickers started out as an ugly adolescent, but turned into a handsome adult Queensland/Black Lab mix, a black and white negative image of a Dalmatian, with a little more fur, and a white tip on his tail. We considered sending him to Civil Engineering school, as he enthusiastically dug tunnels in the sand, with only the tip of his tail showing. When too exhausted, he would come into the garage to rest for a few minutes, then leap back out to continue digging. He had full faith that he could dig faster than any gopher or ground squirrel.

Snickers loved to romp like the dog in the video on runs through the fields, but he was surprised at the squishy ground at the bottom of an almost-empty canal. In his only encounter with snow, he took great joy at biting snowflakes. He would have loved a deep snowfall.

We have never had a cat like the happy Australian one in this video. Though our little princess-cat Darla will play with a trickle of water from the bathroom faucet. She still likes to sleep in the bathroom sink, but doesn't get much chance to do so anymore, with Maggie the Warrior Queen and Troy the Giant Dog limiting her indoor time. And to add insult to injury, the little half-starved Chihuahua adopted by our neighbors (young men with no clue how to care for a dog) has decided to take over one of the heated kitty boxes - the one on our porch. Even though I set up one for him on the neighbors' porch. Incidentally, if anyone needs a quiet little black Chihuahua with big ears, he is available. He likes other animals but is a little slow to trust new men. We are over our legal limit for dogs (we fudge by having 2 lots).

My favorite of the adored, but seriously annoyed, Japanese cats pictured at the link to this post is the froggy cat.

One commenter speculated that these cats are looking daggers because, "I think they’re actually the species that invented style."

Remember these rules (from the Japanese site) for dressing cats:

1. You need to dress a cat. And you will say to a cat together with a family. "It has changed just for a moment". [ "it being very dear" or ] You will pass pleasant one time.

2. If a family and a cat become fortunate, you will take a commemorative photo! Therefore, please photo your cat lovelily with much trouble.

3. If it finishes taking a photograph, you will make it remove clothes from a cat immediately. You will say then, without forgetting the language of gratitude to a cat. "-- be flooded -- a way -- good -- having done one's best -- ! -- "

4. And if you want your cat to look like a Beloved, Merry Rudolph, Also remember . . .

I think I'll stick to a few kitty and doggy treats to make our pets feel loved this Christmas.

Looking Forward to Christmas

After Sister Cox spoke about Thanksgiving on November 30, Brother Cox spoke about looking forward to Christmas. He described a simple notebook his father had made with scriptures to be read daily as Christmas approached. Something like the Catholic tradition of Advent, but designed for his own family. I think this is a fine way to transition from Thanksgiving to Christmas.

Here's an explanation of Advent for non-Catholics by The Anchoress. Some of the ritual aspects of a Catholic Advent don't do much for me, but you don't have to be Catholic to appreciate and adopt some of the ideas behind Advent:

"A star is shining brightly.
A people are moving toward the places from whence they came.
A young woman is great with child.
Wise men are lifting their eyes to heaven, and wondering.

The place of our own origin, from whence we came, beckons
and sends a flare, and One who is All in All will come - in love,
and breathtaking humility - to show us the way back to the Creator.
We are great with expectation.
We raise our heads from the wilderness of our lives, and look about,
and wonder. And hope."

In a later post, she says, "If everyone would just sit down and watch this video of Cecilia Bartoli’s super-human vocal virtuosity…we would all be humbled and awestruck at what God has created in human beings…and there would be no war, because we would all understand that we have within us something divine - a spark. In Bartoli’s case, perhaps a Roman Candle!"

That's sort of how I think about Bach's mind when I hear this performance of Sleepers Awake, written, like most of Bach's music, "to the glory of God".

Wachet auf! ruft uns die Stimme
der Wachter sehr hoch auf der Zinne.
Wach auf, du Stadt Jerusalem.

Wake, awake, for night is flying,
The watchmen on the heights are crying.
Awake, Jerusalem, arise.

Echoes of Thanksgiving

Sometimes, it is hard for me to let go of Thanksgiving, a holiday which I think we sometimes put aside too quickly. Maybe it's O.K. to take some of the spirit of Thanksgiving into the Christmas season.

On November 30, Sister Cox talked in church about the Pilgrims and their thankful attitude for blessings small and great - from 5 kernels of corn per day per person during the first winter to greater bounty later on. Her talk reminded me of something The Anchoress (a Catholic blogger) said about Thanksgiving:

". . . it is the humble, ordinary things - the things we take for granted, that give us mobility, opportunity, self-sufficiency, expression - we rarely think to be grateful for those things.

I realized once, while at prayer, that real joy and contentment in life is not possible - cannot be possible - without real gratitude. Unless you really KNOW what you have, how can you appreciate it, and if you do not appreciate your life how can you be joyful?

I used to volunteer at a local hospital, visiting patients, seeing what they needed, praying with them if they wanted that, and I ended up working particularly with those coming back from brain injuries. One day I realized…I can dress myself, I can feed myself. I can stir my cup of coffee and raise it to my lips, all by myself. My hand does not shake; I do not need someone to raise the cup for me, or slip a straw into it. I do not need anyone to wipe my lips for me.

I do not have to wait for someone to come to me and guess my need, before my thirst is quenched.

It was a revelation to me, to consider how ungrateful I had been for those things. They are not little things. They are everything, as any of the patients I had visited would have told me.

There is much to be grateful for, in every life - even in those lives which we think of as “lacking” in quality - if one person loves us or treats us with kindness and dignity, we are blessed.

I thank my God for all good things, and even for the things and circumstances that do not always immediately seem to fall into the category of 'good.' I trust. I hope. I believe. I thank."

Thanksgiving to Christmas music:

The surprising history of the hymn, We Gather Together. More on this hymn and Dutch history and religious freedom.

Here's a simple, contemporary version of Come Thou Fount of Every Blessing. Different from the full choir and orchestra version we've come to love.