Category: childhood

Not An Easy Answer

Daily writing prompt
Share one of the best gifts you’ve ever received.
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This is another of those questions with contingencies circling around a word. Today, it’s ‘gift’. I mean, the gifts of life and good health are often on people’s lists. I’ve experienced enough personal health scares to appreciate those words. A memory seared into my being is of being very sick one year. Bronchitis turned to pneumonia. I awoke to Mom’s high pitched appeals, “Please, Lord, let my son live.” Her efforts worked, as here I am. Pretty good gift, I think.

Then there is the best gift received as a present. That would be a 1/20 scale model of a 1961 Jaguar XK-E. I was around nine or ten years old. Car fever bowled me over. Porsches, Corvettes, Ferraris, name it. But that Jag impressed me as the most stylistic art on four wheels. The roadster was my choice but the model was a coupe. It was fun to build, and I displayed the result with pride.

However, there was a shirt given to me when I was fourteen. A female classmate had a crush on me. I was aware of this because other girls wrote me a note informing me of the fact. Later that week, she bought the shirt, and gave it to me as a gift. Although the shirt wasn’t my style, I was flattered. Astonished, really. In retrospect, I understand how much courage it took her to buy that and give it to me.

I suppose, though, the best gift is that kiss and hug my wife gave me the first time she ever told me she loved me. Unable to speak the words, she wrote them in the steam on a window. We were teenagers and that’s another memory captured in amber. Married a few years later, we’re still married fifty years later.

So, not an easy question to answer. The question does force me to realize how many great gifts I’ve received.

I hope I was able to give a few to others along the way.

6

Mom & Dad

Daily writing prompt
What were your parents doing at your age?
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I often think about Mom & Dad at my age of 68 and what they were doing.

Mom, with a couple divorces behind her, was a late bloomer in some ways. She’d given birth to seven children. Five lived. Forfeiting graduating high school to leave her small town of Turin, Iowa and find employment and begin her own life, she eventually acquired her GED. That was long after I’d left home and begun my life. After gaining her GED, she went to college and became an LPN and RN. A twenty-year in that followed; she retired at my current age, devoting herself to being a grandmother.

Dad and Mom had divorced decades before. Dad was in the military, the U.S. Air Force. After retiring at 20 years, when he was thirty-nine years old, he worked in the grocery business as a produce manager and then bought his own restaurant. When he was around 48, twenty years younger than I am now, he moved west to Texas. He worked in different retail businesses while becoming a real estate agent. He always like running stores, though. Eventually, he was running the largest truck stop west of the Mississippi. Along the way, he met another woman; she became his third wife. They’ll be married 33 years on Valentine’s Day of 2025. Meanwhile, he kept managing that truck stop. Every time he told them he was thinking about retiring, they’d offer him more pay, bonuses, and vacation. He did eventually give it up when he was 80. So at my current age, he was fully in the thick of running it.

They’re a surprising couple. From lower class working roots, they married many times. Each had productive careers. Between the two of them, each was parent to seven children but they also buried three children. Five of us siblings shared them as parents. I left Mom’s home when I was 14 to live with Dad and then left his house at 17, joining the military as Dad had done, so much of what I saw of their lives was through a long distance lens. Mom and Dad remain alive. Mom is 89 and Dad is 92. Both endure health issues but because of the era when they worked and the effort they put in, they have excellent health benefits.

Of course, the flip side of it all is, what will I be like at their ages?

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Wenzda’s Theme Music

Greetings to all on this day, Wenzda, February 12, 2025. Sunshine is blazing across a bold blue sky, dazzling off the disheveled snow comforter still in place around much of Ashlandia. It’s 24 F, up from 19 F. Gonna get up to 42, 43 F, ‘they’ tell us.

A gorgeous full moon visited last night. Light sprayed across the snow, throwing deep shadows around trees and houses. One of those wondrous sights that hold your attention and forces you to invest in deep philosophical thoughts about the nature of existence. At least, until the wine runs out.

Happy Darwin Day! “Charles Robert Darwin, who first described the process of evolution of species in the plant and animal kingdoms through natural selection, was born.
It is now celebrated as Darwin Day, when the common language of science, bridging language and culture, is recognized and appreciated.“ stolen from Scottie’s Playtime. A friend puts on a one-person play as Darwin to honor the man. We were planning to attend but with the rise of flu and other respiratory illnesses, we backed off that intention.

That’s Dr. Pepper Trail on the right.

I also have another lymphedema bandage session this afternoon. The left appendage and all of its accessories responded well and I may come out of there wearing a normal shoe on it. The right, which had the surgery, still had some space to improve.

Today’s song is “Goodbye Yellow Brick Road” by Elton John with Lyrics by Bernie Taupin. Released in 1973, while I was in high school, it’s one of those songs which are easy to sing along with…if you know the words! It’s like, what is he saying? Hearing the actual lyrics cause conniptions over meanings and associations. Some seem straightforward enough but others give a ‘huuuhhh?’ moment. It’s about longing to me, though, about being in a different place and time, one where you feel more comfortable. That’s why I The Neurons have delivered it to the morning mental music stream. Reading the world’s news, especially politics in the U.S., I wondered what road we’ll need to follow to survive and free ourselves of this mess. Where is the yellow brick road?

Coffee grabbed me as I was walking by and took me into the kitchen, where I indulged a cup to wash down a lemon turnover. Hope your day goes well. Stay safe out there. Cheers

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Twozdaz’s Theme Music

Sunshine rose over the western mountains and trees and waxed into a blazing orb, splashing light and warmth all Ashlandia and the valley where I reside. Blue sky followed like a puppy gamboling on a walk with their human. Temperatures hurried from 25 F to 33 F in fast time. Snow keeps melting. Athough full duvets cover many parts of the land, the thickness on the backyard furniture looks like it’s down to seven inches. A high temperature of 37 F is conceivable, ‘they’ say. They had it right yesterday, so optimism overflows me today. Yesterday was a pleasant winter day.

This is Twozda, February 11, 2025.

Yesterday’s sunshine overjoyed the house floofs. After some geographic jockeying over whether it was better inside or out, they found sunlit places inside and made like melting pools of fur for a few hours. And that is a weirdly rewarding, reassuring sight, to walk in and see floofs deeply relaxed and asleep.

Today’s music was born in a dream, one of three dreams remembered from last night. I won’t go into any dreams here, although I probably will address one of the shorter, sharper ones in another post. The song was written by Laura Nyro and covered by Blood, Sweat, and Tears. Released in 1969, “And When I Die” is circulating my morning mental music stream like music coming in over a grocery store’s loudspeaker system. I always enjoyed the song’s straightforward lyrics and their message. Wasn’t too found of the actual melody, which seemed sort of old fashioned to my young ears. It’s remarkable, though, that she wrote the song when she was seventeen and sold it to Peter, Paul, and Mary. Nyro was such an impressively talented individual.

I popped into the kitchen a little while ago. Coffee was there and said hello. We started chatting and before I knew it, I had a cup in my hand. Hope you have a strong yet restful and satisfying day. It’s not impossible. Hope you enjoy the musical interlude. Cheers

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Thursdaz’s Wondering Thoughts

I was busy scrubbing oven racks the other day. My Neurons played by themselves. Out of that rolled a remembered television commercial:

“New Ajax laundry detergent, stronger than dirt. (Stronger than dirt!)”

It’s a terrific slogan. Who wouldn’t want a cleaner that’s stronger than dirt? I bet the rest of the cleaners were so jealous because they weren’t stronger than dirt.

And how ’bout that knight with his magic lance? I could use a lance like that.

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Sunda’s Wandering Thoughts

Snow was falling, and I was walking through it. No wind was bothering us, and the temperature is hovering around 33 F, so it’s not too cold. I enjoy walking in general but walking in snow is special. Snow affects all the senses for me. As it collects, it muffles sounds. Falling, it alters light. Snow flakes feel different, too, because each is as unique as a person, animal, or leaf. Everything seems magnified, walking in snow.

At the intersection of all these sensations, I fall back into memories of being a child, walking through snow. Tasting snowflakes with my tongue. Watching air condense as I breathe out. Examining the world as a new cover falls over it. Snow often drove people into buildings, and my walks outside were rewarded with solitude. Sometimes, semi-profound observations visited, but I mostly just walked, holding hands with nature.

9

Soup Time!

Daily writing prompt
What’s your favorite thing to cook?
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I’m gonna tell you in full disclosure, I’m not a cook. I cooked more when I was teenager, and it was just Dad and I. Pulling out the cookbook, I made Yankee pot roast, did different things with chicken, concocted meat loaf, scalloped potatoes, and stuffed green peppers, along with the usual breakfast fares and pasta dishes. Now I’m all about the soup.

Soup is fun and easy to me. I have six go-to recipes that my wife found for me. My current favorite — because these things change, you know? — is the fall roasted root veggie soup. Quarter five pounds of small potatoes. I like to use a medley of golds, purples, reds. Cut up a couple stalks of broccoli and carrots. Drench an garlic clove in olive oil and wrap it in aluminum foil. Spread the veggies across a couple baking sheets with the garlic clove in the middle of one. Drizzle olive oil over the veggies. I don’t add salt because of sodium issues, but you can. I do pepper it. Roast.

After they’re roasted, the veggies are put into a big pot. Two quarts of mushroom broth is poured in. Add water if needed. Take apart the roasted garlic clove and add. Simmer for twenty. Now you’re in yumsville. Add hot bread with butter, of course. It’s a cold day dish that’ll warm and satisfy. Good for you, too. That makes it a win-win.

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Saturda’s Theme Music

January of 2024 has concluded and we’ve shifted into a new month. Yes, today is Saturday, Feb 1, 2025. It’s foggy, 40, rainy, and foggy in Ashlandia, foggy enough that it’s mentioned twice. Rain commenced early Friday morning and has stayed for Saturday coffee. Looks like it might be here for dinner, too. The respective highs and lows will be 47 and 37 F degrees.

My wife and I were discussing the news yesterday. Talking about what’s going on. That immediately kicked Marvin Gaye up from the mental memory cellar into the morning mental music stream. First up was the song, “What’s Going On”. Released in 1971, Marvin Gaye’s song captured and conveyed the sense of unrest and frustration permeating the nation in those years.

But the rest of the album was also awesome. “Save the Children”. “Mercy Mercy Me”. “Inner City Blues (Makes Me Wanna Holler)”. I ended up with “Mercy Mercy Me” dominating the morning mental music stream. Gaye’s softly voiced observations, “Things aren’t what they used to be,” resonants with now. Things aren’t what they used to be, and much of it is not good.

The song’s entire title is, “Mercy Mercy Me (The Ecology)”. At the time, our environment was a disaster and getting worse. The song’s lyrics reflect this.

Whoa, ah, mercy mercy me
Oh things ain't what they used to be, no no
Where did all the blue skies go?
Poison is the wind that blows from the north and south and east

Whoa mercy, mercy me,
Oh things ain't what they used to be, no no
Oil wasted on the oceans and upon our seas, fish full of mercury

Ah, oh mercy, mercy me
Ah things ain't what they used to be, no no
Radiation under ground and in the sky
Animals and birds who live nearby are dying

Oh mercy, mercy me
Oh things ain't what they used to be
What about this overcrowded land
How much more abuse from man can she stand?

h/t to Lyric.com

Concerted efforts were made to clear up the air, land, and sea in the years since. It’s clear that the challenge is never ending. But under this repressive and regressive administration led by Trump, they’re trying to roll that back, too. The motivation behind rolling it back is to make it easier to make more money. Make ‘America First’. Which makes no sense if there’s not air that we can breathe and water that we can drink.

That makes me circle back to, what’s going on? Well, we know what’s going on. The greed of some will kill the people and the planet, and they’re good with that.

As it happens, this is also the beginning of Black History Month. Anytime is a good time to enjoy Marvin Gaye’s powerful talents, but it’s more timely today.

Coffee and I have amended our agreement for me to enjoy its company again today. Hope you have the best day you can. Enjoy the music video. Cheers

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Saturday’s Wandering Thoughts

I checked out someone’s song offering on their blog this morning. The song was a Gordon Lightfoot tune, “If You Could Read My Mind”. Another person commented, “Another song I would never have bought, but I know all the lyrics off by heart nonetheless.“

I commented and then walked away thinking, Pete is right. I know so many songs that I never bought. Some of course, was through radio osmosis. Born in 1956 in the United States, I grew up as part of a car culture that had music playing on car radios. Small transistor radios invaded, and I had one of those to keep me linked into the emerging genres populating the 1960s airwaves.

Mom played her part. I’ve never bought anything by Dean Martin, Hank Williams, Bobby Darin, Patsy Cline, Rosemary Clooney, Doris Day, Tony Bennett, Barbra Steisand, Glen Campbell, Fats Domino, Chubby Checkers, Frank Sinatra, Tammy Wynette, Johnny Cash, the Platters, Ink Spots, Louis Armstrong, etc., but if you put me on a stage and made me sing one, I could do it.

Sisters’ albums plied the air with offerings from bands and performers like Grand Funk Railroad, Peter, Paul, and Mary, the Foundations, the Lettermen, Bread, Sonny & Cher, the Boxtops, the Fruitgum Company, Dusty Springfield, Petula Clark, Lulu, the Turtles, Freddie and the Dreamers, Herman and the Hermits, and so on.

Girlfriends played their part, seeding my mind with Nancy Sinatra, Gordon Lightfoot, the Monkees and the Archies, the Association, the Beatles, Roberta Flack, Carol King, Neil Diamond, Carly Simon, Frankie Valli, and more. Other friends and relatives shared Kenny Rogers (& the Fifth Edition), Three Dog Night, Stealers Wheel, the Byrds, Harry Nilsson, Ricky Nelson, and then later, Brooks & Dunn, Metallica, Whitesnake, Toto (although I did buy Toto 4), and a whole lotta disco.

Then my wife added more, introducing me to Cat Stevens, Seals and Croft, Al Jarreau, and Johnny Rodriguez.

For me, it was a diet of anything Eric Clapton, Marvin Gaye, or Steve Winwood was involved with, the Rolling Stones, Stevie Wonder, Deep Purple, Steppenwolf, Pink Floyd, the Who, Led Zep, the Kinks, the Zombies, the Animals, Jimi Hendrix, Jethro Tull, Grateful Dead, Frank Zappa, Neil Young, Sam & Dave, the Guess Who, ZZ Top, Mountain, Lynyrd Skynyrd, the Moody Blues, Robert Johnson, the Beach Boys, Canned Heat, Ten Years After, Fleetwood Mac, Albert King, King Crimson, Bob Dylan, Simon & Garfunkel, Sly & the Family Stone, Aretha Franklin, Etta James, and Blue Oyster Cult. Later came Boston, van Halen, Reo Speedwagon, Rush, the Eurythmics, Chris Rea, Stevie Ray Vaughn, the Clash, the Sex Pistols, Stone Roses, Status Quo, Men at Work, Midnight Oil, STP, Pearl Jam, Bush, Dire Straits, the Police, Sting, and a whole bunch of others.

There’s a web of songs in my mind, and I only wove a few of the strands.

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Munda’s Theme Music

Mood: dreamnfogbound

A floof’s song pierced my dream. The reckoning of life commenced. Rolling free of my warm, comfy nest, I thrust my self out into the day. Blinds were drawn so I could see.

Fog. A good thick stew of it.

27 degrees F. Ice and frost was slathered over everything visible in existence outside of my window.

This is Monday, January 13, 2025. Yes, it is Monday the 13th. Just like the movie. And TV series. Based on the novel.

Lest my spirits get too high from these devs, I shifted gears and jumped into digital media to see how great the world is faring. After that morale post, I fed the floofs again and gave them treats. Then I turned to here.

Sam Moore passed away this month. Like others, He was part of my life’s tapestry of sound as part of the duo, Sam and Dave. “Soul Man”, recorded and released by them in 1967, was an early favorite song. Another of those tunes with easy lyrics to learn and repeat, with a jaunty, changing rhythm, and mesmerizing vocals flitting between highs and lows, the kind of stuff that inspires attempts to emulate it while pretending to be on a stage, cheered on by an audience of billions. Those memories induced The Neurons to put “Soul Man” into the morning mental music stream (Trademark past due). Very memorable to me from the song was the shout out, “Play it, Steve,” as Steve Cropper played guitar. Cropper was also the guitarist on the later Blues Brothers’s cover, and they repeated that call out, to my delight.

Let’s get positive and do what we can to seize the day. I’ve seized the coffee; now it’s seizing me. Here’s the music. And off we go, merrily, merrily, merrily, life is but a dream.

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