Remember Memorial Day

These heroes are dead. They died for liberty - they died for us. They are at rest. They sleep in the land they made free, under the flag they rendered stainless, under the solemn pines, the sad hemlocks, the tearful willows, and the embracing vines. They sleep beneath the shadows of the clouds, careless alike of sunshine or of storm, each in the windowless Place of Rest. Earth may run red with other wars - they are at peace. In the midst of battle, in the roar of conflict, they found the serenity of death. I have one sentiment for soldiers living and dead: cheers for the living; tears for the dead.
~Robert G. Ingersoll

It doesn't feel quite apropos to say "Happy Memorial Day."

Charlie is a serious observer of the holiday and requires the same of his family.
He always asks, "Are you guys going to a service?"
In that vein, here is a photographic tribute to those who have served and given their all so that the rest of us could live in freedom.
The photos were taken on the boys' trip to Washington D.C.












My military guys. Marines, Coast Guard, and Army ROTC.


Now go find a memorial service near you.

Beach interlude

Lincoln City Beach near sunset.
Yesterday.

The unsung birthday

I don't mind getting older.
Really I don't!
I love the grandparenting,
the disposable income,
the peace that usually prevails in our home,
the joyful chaos that reigns when grandchildren visit,
the ability to come and go as I please,
the people my children are becoming,
the wisdom and perspective that come from experience,
the freedom to dress weirdly if I choose,
friends who know me and still love me,
and many other gifts that come with age.

What I do mind is the decrepitude of the body that follows the advancing years.
I resent the inexplicable pains that sneak up unannounced,
the pounds that creep onto my body no matter how much I fight them,
and multiple body parts (which shall remain nameless) that sag.

Luckily, the list of complaints is much shorter than the list of blessings.
I hope it remains that way for many years to come.

I requested that there be no party or cake for my birthday, as we have been inundated with both lately and still have Tommy's party this Monday.
Everyone was very obedient.
Would you like to see my presents?

Lovely African daisies and sweet potato vine from Mum.


Persian violet from Jon and Jenny.


A sweet-smelling gardenia from Bethany, which I will attempt to not kill.


I asked for flowers, can you tell?

A beautiful picture of the Portland temple from Jeff,
which now fills the only empty spot on my walls.
The photo does not do it justice.


Possum hat, gloves and truffles from my sister, Anne.
White Corningware dishes from my friend Barb, who is also trying to give up the plastic habit. The Lindor truffles that filled them are long gone!
Crocheted slippers from my friend, Brenda.
Relaxing bath milk and foot scrubber from Annie.


A phone call from Charlie, who remembered all on his own.
For that, there is no photo.

Growing things

I have become a fan of violas.
Their colours are so bright they are almost iridescent.
They will no doubt fade in the heat of summer, but they have been spectacular through our changeable spring.

Recital Time

Recital tonight for my piano students.
Our church building (the usual venue) is totally closed down for renovations, so we had it at the Newberg Christian Church.
It was very nice of them to let me use the space.
We were in the lobby.
Three little old ladies were sitting in easy chairs when we arrived.
They stayed for the recital.
And helped themselves to brownies afterward.
I said, "You're lucky, you got entertainment AND refreshments tonight!"

It's been years since I had an ensemble recital.
Now I remember why.
It's a crazy amount of work.
But immense fun.
We had student duets.
A trio of little girls played "Jesus Loves me."
Siblings played together.
A Grandma accompanied her three grandchildren.
And a Mom and young son played together.
Kenzie played with Auntie Annie.
For a grand finale, most of the students took part in a rhythm ensemble, a la "Stomp." Every student performed a different rhythm using their name and body percussion. It was terrific!


I think I'll keep my job a bit longer.

Water(ing)babies

I LOVE watering cans.
So do my grandkids.
They will water everything in sight until I declare that WATERING IS DONE for the day.
Here they are on Friday, doing just that.



Daniel disdains watering cans when the hose is available.


Green growing thing of the day: Yukon Gold potatoes.

I scream for ......?

We finally took the Screamer out yesterday.
Dusty from lack of use.
Why is it called the Screamer?
Well, that's its name.
It's also what I become when we crash and bite the dust.
Which hopefully won't happen ever again!

It was a gorgeous, sunny morning, with a bit of a windchill.
The plan was to ride 6 miles out to the Mustard Seed.
And back again.
Without crashing.

The Mustard Seed is an organic farm co-op that we are going to do this summer, so the plan is to ride out there, put in some work hours, then ride home again with a load of fresh produce.
The ride is supposed to get easier every week as we get stronger and skinnier.
Sounds idyllic, doesn't it?

Yesterday was the test run.

The ride seemed to be REALLY hard work.
We couldn't even get any momentum on the downhill bits, which are our speciality.
After 3 or 4 miles, we had to walk the last 50 yards or so to the top of the worst hill.
We were discouraged.
Then Jeff, who was pushing the bike, looked down.
The granny brake was about 80% engaged!
It's the only thing over which I have any control, other than how hard I pedal.
I can slow the bike down if we go scary fast on the down side of a hill.

Jeff disengaged the brake.
Things went much better after that!

Here we are upon returning home.
Looking a little too well-fed.