Bring Me That Horizon

Welcome to jennyweber dot com

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Home of Jenny the Pirate

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Our four children

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Our eight grandchildren

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This will go better if you

check your expectations at the door.

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We're not big on logic

but there's no shortage of irony.

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 Nice is different than good.

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Oh and ...

I flunked charm school.

So what.

Can't write anything.

> Jennifer <

Causing considerable consternation
to many fine folk since 1957

Pepper and me ... Seattle 1962

  

In The Market, As It Were

 

 

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Contributor to

American Cemetery

published by Kates-Boylston

Hoist The Colors

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Insist on yourself; never imitate.

Your own gift you can present

every moment

with the cumulative force

of a whole life’s cultivation;

but of the adopted talent of another

you have only an extemporaneous

half possession.

That which each can do best,

none but his Maker can teach him.

> Ralph Waldo Emerson <

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Represent:

The Black Velvet Coat

Belay That!

This blog does not contain and its author will not condone profanity, crude language, or verbal abuse. Commenters, you are welcome to speak your mind but do not cuss or I will delete either the word or your entire comment, depending on my mood. Continued use of bad words or inappropriate sentiments will result in the offending individual being banned, after which they'll be obliged to walk the plank. Thankee for your understanding and compliance.

> Jenny the Pirate <

A Pistol With One Shot

Ecstatically shooting everything in sight using my beloved Nikon D3100 with AF-S DX Nikkor 18-55mm 1:3.5-5.6G VR kit lens and AF-S Nikkor 50mm f/1.8 G prime lens.

Also capturing outrageous beauty left and right with my Nikon D7000 blissfully married to my Nikkor 85mm f/1.4D AF prime glass. Don't be jeal.

And then there was the Nikon AF-S DX NIKKOR 18-200mm f:3.5-5.6G ED VR II zoom. We're done here.

Dying Is A Day Worth Living For

I am a taphophile

Word. Photo Jennifer Weber 2010

Great things are happening at

Find A Grave

If you don't believe me, click the pics.

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Dying is a wild night

and a new road.

Emily Dickinson

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REMEMBRANCE

When I am gone

Please remember me

 As a heartfelt laugh,

 As a tenderness.

 Hold fast to the image of me

When my soul was on fire,

The light of love shining

Through my eyes.

Remember me when I was singing

And seemed to know my way.

Remember always

When we were together

And time stood still.

Remember most not what I did,

Or who I was;

Oh please remember me

For what I always desired to be:

A smile on the face of God.

David Robert Brooks

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 Do not regret growing older. It is a privilege denied to many.

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Keep To The Code

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You Want To Find This
The Promise Of Redemption

Therefore seeing we have this ministry, as we have received mercy, we faint not;

But have renounced the hidden things of dishonesty, not walking in craftiness, nor handling the word of God deceitfully; but by manifestation of the truth commending ourselves to every man's conscience in the sight of God.

But if our gospel be hid, it is hid to them that are lost:

In whom the god of this world hath blinded the minds of them which believe not, lest the light of the glorious gospel of Christ, who is the image of God, should shine unto them.

For we preach not ourselves, but Christ Jesus the Lord; and ourselves your servants for Jesus' sake.

For God, who commanded the light to shine out of darkness, hath shined in our hearts, to give the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ.

But we have this treasure in earthen vessels, that the excellency of the power may be of God, and not of us.

We are troubled on every side, yet not distressed; we are perplexed, but not in despair;

Persecuted, but not forsaken; cast down, but not destroyed;

Always bearing about in the body the dying of the Lord Jesus, that the life also of Jesus might be made manifest in our body.

For we which live are alway delivered unto death for Jesus' sake, that the life also of Jesus might be made manifest in our mortal flesh.

So then death worketh in us, but life in you.

We having the same spirit of faith, according as it is written, I BELIEVED, AND THEREFORE HAVE I SPOKEN; we also believe, and therefore speak;

Knowing that he which raised up the Lord Jesus shall raise up us also by Jesus, and shall present us with you.

For all things are for your sakes, that the abundant grace might through the thanksgiving of many redound to the glory of God.

For which cause we faint not; but though our outward man perish, yet the inward man is renewed day by day.

For our light affliction, which is but for a moment, worketh for us a far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory;

While we look not at the things which are seen, but at the things which are not seen: for the things which are seen are temporal; but the things which are not seen are eternal.

II Corinthians 4

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THE DREAMERS

In the dawn of the day of ages,
 In the youth of a wondrous race,
 'Twas the dreamer who saw the marvel,
 'Twas the dreamer who saw God's face.


On the mountains and in the valleys,
By the banks of the crystal stream,
He wandered whose eyes grew heavy
With the grandeur of his dream.

The seer whose grave none knoweth,
The leader who rent the sea,
The lover of men who, smiling,
Walked safe on Galilee --

All dreamed their dreams and whispered
To the weary and worn and sad
Of a vision that passeth knowledge.
They said to the world: "Be glad!

"Be glad for the words we utter,
Be glad for the dreams we dream;
Be glad, for the shadows fleeing
Shall let God's sunlight beam."

But the dreams and the dreamers vanish,
The world with its cares grows old;
The night, with the stars that gem it,
Is passing fair, but cold.

What light in the heavens shining
Shall the eye of the dreamer see?
Was the glory of old a phantom,
The wraith of a mockery?

Oh, man, with your soul that crieth
In gloom for a guiding gleam,
To you are the voices speaking
Of those who dream their dream.

If their vision be false and fleeting,
If its glory delude their sight --
Ah, well, 'tis a dream shall brighten
The long, dark hours of night.

> Edward Sims Van Zile <

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Freedom is a fragile thing and is never more than one generation away from extinction. It is not ours by inheritance; it must be fought for and defended constantly by each generation, for it comes only once to a people. Those who have known freedom and then lost it, have never known it again.

~ Ronald Reagan

Photo Jennifer Weber 2010

Not Without My Effects

My Compass Works Fine

The Courage Of Our Hearts

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Daft Like Jack

 "I can name fingers and point names ..."

And We'll Sing It All The Time
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Easy On The Goods
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    starring Geoffrey Canada, Michelle Rhee
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    starring Bette Davis, Ernest Borgnine, Debbie Reynolds, Barry Fitzgerald, Rod Taylor
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    starring Jack Black, Shirley MacLaine, Matthew McConaughey
  • Remember the Night
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    starring Barbara Stanwyck, Fred MacMurray, Beulah Bondi, Elizabeth Patterson, Sterling Holloway
  • The Ox-Bow Incident
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    starring Henry Fonda, Dana Andrews, Mary Beth Hughes, Anthony Quinn, William Eythe
  • The Bad Seed
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    starring Nancy Kelly, Patty McCormack, Henry Jones, Eileen Heckart, Evelyn Varden
  • Shadow of a Doubt
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    starring Teresa Wright, Joseph Cotten, Macdonald Carey, Patricia Collinge, Henry Travers
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    starring Jean Arthur, Joel McCrea, Charles Coburn, Bruce Bennett, Ann Savage
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    starring Alex Veadov, Roselyn Sanchez, Nestor Serrano
  • Deep Water
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    starring Tilda Swinton, Donald Crowhurst, Jean Badin, Clare Crowhurst, Simon Crowhurst
  • Sunset Boulevard
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    starring William Holden, Gloria Swanson, Erich Von Stroheim, Nancy Olson, Fred Clark
  • Penny Serenade
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    starring Cary Grant, Irene Dunne, Edgar Buchanan, Beulah Bondi
  • Double Indemnity
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    starring Fred MacMurray, Barbara Stanwyck, Edward G. Robinson, Porter Hall, Jean Heather
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    starring Clark Gable, Claudette Colbert
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    starring Barbara Stanwyck, John Boles, Anne Shirley, Barbara O'Neil, Alan Hale
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    starring Meryl Streep, Jim Broadbent, Harry Lloyd, Anthony Head, Alexandra Roach
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That Dog Is Never Going To Move

~ RIP JAVIER ~

1999 - 2016

Columbia's Finest Chihuahua

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~ RIP SHILOH ~

2017 - 2021

My Tar Heel Granddog

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~ RIP RAMBO ~

2008 - 2022

Andrew's Beloved Pet

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Tuesday
Jan172023

Pittsburgh :: the Paris of Appalachia

Cathedral of Learning at the University of Pittsburgh

TG and I first hung out in Pittsburgh in the waning hours of the winter of 2017, just days before I had my first (of two, haha) hip replacement surgeries.

We had a wonderful time on that trip. A business matter was the reason we were there, but when TG announced he'd have to make the journey, I decided to go along and quickly sussed out the best, biggest, most historic cemetery in town: Allegheny.

A kind lady with a white dog took our picture

So that we could visit it, and walk it, take it all in, and -- best of all -- take pictures of it.

It remains one of the most wildly beautiful cemeteries we have seen on our travels, which have included touring and photographing around seventy huge, historic cemeteries (all east of the Rockies) in the last thirteen years.

The inside of the Cathedral of Learning looked like ... a cathedral

It was at Allegheny Cemetery that for the first time in our experience, we encountered whole herds of deer.

They take the breath away. Pun intended.

The Pitt campus is beautiful and well-tended

When we were there in early March of 2017, I decided that I wanted to go back sometime in the autumn of the year.

So it was that in 2022, when planning our fall trip which we knew would include Shanksville, I realized that my friend Sara lived but a few hours from Shanksville, and that Shanksville was only a ninety-minute drive from Pittsburgh.

Looking back across Bigelow Boulevard

The itinerary began to take shape.

Another, final destination, which is also a mere ninety minutes from Pittsburgh, rounded out our trip.

TG in front of the Soldiers & Sailors Memorial

I'll tell you about that next time.

We arrived in Pittsburgh in the early evening of the day that saw us tour the Flight 93 National Memorial -- which is actually located in Stoystown, Pennsylvania. 

Pittsburgh drivers get right up in your space

After enjoying a solidly good dinner at a non-chain restaurant in Somerset, we moseyed on up the road to Pitt.

We stayed in the same hotel where we hunkered down in 2017. I make sure to hold onto that information if the stay is a pleasant one, which it was then and which it was this time as well.

You can see Pittsburgh from on high if you're so inclined

On the morning of our first day in Pittsburgh, I wanted to go downtown.

That's where the campus of the University of Pittsburgh is situated, and in particular, the 1920s Gothic Revival/Art Deco architectural masterpiece known as the Cathedral of Learning.

The view from the window of the tiny red funicular car ... going up

I'd seen it from afar -- as the tallest educationally purposed building in the Western Hemisphere, it has a high profile -- in 2017, and had vowed to get closer the next time we went.

It did not disappoint. the building is gorgeous and imposing, mysterious in the way that only Gothic-style edifices can be, set in stunning manicured lawns, and surrounded on that day by an azure sky.

Confluence of the Ohio, the Allegheny, and the Monongahela ... click to embiggen

I was so thrilled to be there. The Heinz Memorial Chapel sits not far from the Cathedral of Learning, and on its steps we met a lady and her little white dog. She offered to take our picture with my new favorite building in the background.

After that we went inside the Cathedral of Learning, the first floor of which actually resembles a European cathedral.

Ginkgo trees are everywhere in Pittsburgh ... the yellow fans carpet sidewalks

We rode the high-tech elevators up to a higher floor but what exists there in the way of an observatory, was closed. Having not learned a whole lot, we went back outside.

Moving on, we walked around for a while, hanging out and taking a few pictures on the grounds of the nearby Soldiers & Sailors Memorial Hall & Museum.

Our personal tour guide at PNC Park

We did not go inside because had we done so, I would have lost TG for the better part of three hours as he read every last syllable of every last word posted on every last exhibit.

The pirate has all respect for soldiers and sailors alike but on that day I had no desire to haunt a museum.

TG in the Pirates dugout

Back at our car, we found that folks in Pittsburgh are fearless when it comes to the space between cars while parallel parking.

(It was by happy chance -- not to mention common courtesy -- that TG had left ample room between our front bumper and the back bumper of the car ahead of us, or we might still be sitting there.)

Our tour guide took this one with my phone

In preparing for our trip, I'd drawn a bead on another large cemetery besides Allegheny: Homewood.

I walked there and took pictures for an hour or so while TG cruised around in the car, using the map he'd procured in the front office to locate famous graves.

Pirate Pair :: Me and Roberto Clemente

We were hungry then, so we drove to a near suburb and had a delicious early dinner at Texas Roadhouse.

(In case you're wondering, no: We don't as a rule seek out trendy eating places or watering holes when we visit new cities. We are more 24-hour-diner than fine-dining types and we don't drink, so going to the TR for a reliably good -- and affordable -- steak is culinary adventure enough for us.)

The leaves were past peak but still ravishing

As it was late afternoon by then, we decided to round out the day by revisiting the Duquesne Incline.

Turns out there are two inclines in Pittsburgh: the Duquesne and the Monongahela.

Point State Park was quiet but full of stunning beauty

They say you haven't experienced Pittsburgh until you've taken a ride up the Monongahela Incline.

Then I guess we haven't experienced Pittsburgh yet, because in 2017 we didn't even know about the Monongahela Incline, and on this visit, it was closed for renovations.

But many trees were already bare ... and would soon be shivering

But the views of Pittsburgh are stunning from the top of the Duquesne Incline, and even when you've already seen it, there's still lots to appreciate.

It would soon be dark, so we set out for the barn but stopped by a grocery store on the way, for snacks.

Everywhere you look in Pittsburgh, there is yellow

While on trips, unless we are in town for an event, as a rule we like to spend the evenings in our hotel room, propped up in the king-sized bed, TG surfing on his iPad and me on my MacBook Pro.

We are as boring as a White House Press Conference, with more lying about but less lying.

Acrisure Stadium :: Home of the Pittsburgh Steelers. Click to embiggen.

The next morning, after breakfast and coffee, we headed for PNC Park (home of the Pittsburgh Pirates), where we had tickets for a guided tour.

We arrived in time to plunder the gift shop, where we bought a few tee shirts and a fridge magnet.

Fort Pitt. We went into the gift shop and bought a few things for the kids.

It turned out that no one else showed up for the reservations-only ninety-minute tour. As a result, we had our tour guide to ourselves. I was seriously into that because I'm selfish.

Each time we have taken guided tours of ball parks -- like Camden Yards (during the same trip when we visited the grave of Edgar Allan Poe) and Fenway Park in 2019 -- our tour guides have been older men who are lifelong residents and fans of the subject ball club.

Allegheny Cemetery is endless natural and funereal gorgeousness

These gentlemen are SO great on a tour of the ball park. They know everything and can answer all questions and it's just delightful.

After that we drove a few blocks to Point State Park, which to be honest I thought would be a little more action-packed than it actually was. It was in fact all but deserted.

I made a beeline for the Porter angel, one of the loveliest monuments at Allegheny. Click to see the back.

The weather was warm but not too warm, and overcast -- my favorite favorite absolute favorite sort of weather for walking around outside. I was dressed just right to be comfortable, and the light was ideal for pictures of the rivers and bridges and fall foliage. 

Alas the majestic fountain had been turned off for the winter, that very DAY. You can see it in full function in our pictures of the point taken from the top of the incline a scant twenty hours earlier.

Sights like this are everywhere at Allegheny Cemetery

Then it was time to drive out to Allegheny Cemetery and spend the afternoon there.

It was as splendid as I'd remembered, and I walked and walked and walked in the spring-like autumn weather.

The deer was neither amazed nor startled to see me

Spates of light rain put only a tiny damper on my perambulating and picture taking. We saw the deer again, although not in as great numbers as last time.

Again: we'd worked up an appetite. I consulted my phone for the nearest -- don't hate -- Cracker Barrel.

 This monument to a long-ago little girl broke my heart

Again: At least there, you more or less know what you're going to get.

Again: Our dinner was delicious and by six o'clock or so, we were back in the room preparing to relax for the evening.

Pittsburgh deer are particularly imperturbable ... click to embiggen

The next morning we set out early for the long drive home, but with a detour to a place that I have read about and wanted to visit for at least thirty years.

Maybe some of you have guessed the place, but please don't speculate in the comments.

One last look at the Paris of Appalachia

I want it to be a surprise.

And that is all for now except to say, I hope you are having a good week so far -- hitting all of your marks, righting wrongs and rerighting rights, slaying the dragons and making your dreams come true.

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Happy Tuesday

Monday
Jan092023

Snappy New Year


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I hope your new year has gone more smoothly so far than mine.

Allow me to elaborate.

On New Year's Eve, I noticed the tiniest twinge of congestion in my chest. 

In my experience that is not a good sign.

I hugged my pillow at 11:10 p.m. and was sound asleep by 11:11 p.m. I was not aware of 2023 peeking over the battlements.

On New Year's Day, I felt mostly sort of okay until the evening.

(I didn't go anywhere. I have not left the house since Christmas Day.)

By the next day -- last Monday -- I was in bad shape. 

Although I had an illness similar to this in November of 1989, and I was struck down with a mean-spirited flu virus in January of 2018, I don't remember a time in my life when I have been sick for ten whole days in a row.

Today is the first day that I feel significantly better.

And I'm so glad about that, that I'll celebrate by boring you no longer.

The picture above was taken at PNC Park -- home of the Pittsburgh Pirates -- in late October last year.

I'll tell you the rest of the story about that trip, later in the week.

Meanwhile I hope you're healthy, happy, and pursuing your dreams with all the pluck and insouciance you can muster.

That's what I plan to do, as soon as I take a nap.

And that is all for now.

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Happy Monday

Saturday
Dec242022

Our wish for you


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M e r r y   C h r i s t m a s

from the Pirate and TG

2022

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Friday
Dec162022

A sticky situation

I found this little countdown truck at Dollar General

I pause in the delivery of my sporadic travelogues to tell you what's been going on.

Every year we all go out the day after Thanksgiving to take Christmas pictures.

This is because we need them for our Christmas cards.

Blue-eyed cousins: Ember Rae and Rhett Gregory

This year, as in most years, the weather cooperated. It was cool but not cold, and we converged upon the Horseshoe on the University of South Carolina campus in downtown Columbia, to do the shoots.

I say shoots because each family gets their photo taken, and then if everyone is present and accounted for, I take a group photo of all of our children and grandchildren together.

Last year Andrew and Brittany weren't able to join us for this, so I was excited to get that shot this year.

We're all lit up in the kitchen

Once the multifaceted mission was accomplished, Stephanie and her family headed home to North Carolina.

The rest of us went back to our house to eat Thanksgiving leftovers.

Then it was Saturday, and on that evening we had hamburgers and hot dogs cooked on the grill and celebrated Ember's third birthday one week early.

Her mother created a barnyard-themed tablescape and decorated a plain white cake with piggies squealing as they slid down a mudslide of Oreo cookie crumbs. Adorable.

My kids' stockings are supersized

Then Ember opened her gifts and was so sweet about looking at each card, and politely saying thank you to each one, for each present.

At the start of the first official week of Christmas, I began the task of choosing our card and getting it ordered.

(To be more accurate, I didn't make a decision right away but at least I began the process.)

In due time, I got them ordered.

I received this little church at a gift exchange many years ago

Once I've made up my mind, I don't like to wait, so I go with CVS same-day pickup.

Then as I prepared to do my mailing (I order 140 Christmas cards; approximately 80 go out through the mail and 60 are distributed at church and amongst neighbors and other local friends), I realized that I was going to need Christmas stickers.

You'd think that would be easy.

But no.

When you come over, you can have your coffee or cocoa in a festive mug

First I went to Hobby Lobby, the mother of all craft stores.

I searched high and low -- even in the sticker aisle -- for Christmas stickers, and came up with nothing.

(To be honest, they may have had something Christmasy in the sticker aisle that would have suited, but it wasn't their week to be half-off so I would not have bought them anyway. But I don't think they had any.)

Stephanie and her family

Finally, in a last-ditch effort to locate what I was convinced surely must be there somewhere, I approached a worker in one of the (many) aisles devoted to the display of Christmas merchandise of every conceivable shape, size, and use.

The employee in question was a frazzled-looking older lady with a mop of gray hair that hung down in her face.

She peered at me from behind large glasses and a considerable quantity of the hair.

I made this mince pie and it did not get eaten. It's in the freezer awaiting Christmas Eve.

I'm just being honest.

She did not smile or even speak, at first, when I said: Hi! with my best pirate smile, and yes it is dazzling.

So I continued: Could you tell me where I might find Christmas stickers? Not the to-from kind that you stick onto a gift, but just regular Christmas stickers like you put on the back of a card?

Cherica and Baby Rhett

The lady hesitated and then said: Everything we have is out.

She gestured in a halfhearted way by waving weakly with one hand, indicating that if the stickers were "out", they would be in the vicinity. Or they could be anywhere.

I said: So you don't specifically know of any Christmas stickers?

Some of the TV room decorations

No, she said.

Thanks! I said.

Defeated, I queued up and bought the few things that were in my cart, and left.

Next stop: Walmart, for groceries. And surely for Christmas stickers.

Brittany and Ember

Except, once I had searched the greeting card and gift wrap and party supplies aisles, as well as the seasonal aisles near that area, and the second seasonal aisle elsewhere in the store at least a half-acre away from those areas, and failed to locate even the suggestion of a Christmas sticker, I decided it was time to ask for help.

I approached a worker who was fiddling with a display of Christmas baking items.

Hi! I said. Could you tell me where I might find Christmas stickers? Not the to-from kind to stick onto a gift, but the kind you put on the back of an envelope containing a Christmas card? I've looked everywhere.

These are some of our presents for the kids and grandkids ... theirs to us and one another will be added

This lady practically glared at me from beneath a Santa hat. She did not smile or encourage me in any way.

All of the Christmas stuff is in the Garden Center, she said.

I hesitated. Well ... except for the Christmas stuff at the front of the store beside the greeting card aisle, and the Christmas stuff crammed into the aisle behind you, I said.

No, she said shaking her head so that the white pompom on the end of her Santa hat bobbed around. Everything is in the Garden Center. If we have Christmas stickers, that's where they'll be.

That's all of them ... so far

Thanks! I said. Lies! I knew then that I was basically on my own in the retail wilderness.

Back to the front of the store I trotted, hooking a right towards the Garden Center (approximately a quarter mile away). Despite odds that were lengthening by the minute, I was feeling hopeful.

Through the doors to the Garden Center I went. It was in fact stuffed with all things Christmas: from fake trees to lights to tinsel to gift wrap to ornaments to wreaths, it was there.

I began searching for Christmas stickers. The gift wrap aisle made the most sense to me, so I started there.

My gnome is all set for the slopes

And they had tons of Christmas stickers! Except, all sixteen million of them said To: followed by From:.

I sighed and located a worker. This lady was actually very nice and smiled at me sweetly when I said: Hi!

I continued: Do you know where I might find Christmas stickers? Not the kind that say to-from but the kind that you plaster onto the back of a Christmas card before you pop it into the mail?

Audrey and Dagny Clare

Her smile, at first so radiant, did not stick to her face.

Oh no, she said. I'm pretty sure that the only kind we have say To: and From:.

But then, in a sincere effort to be helpful: Have you looked up front in all of the Christmas-themed aisles near the greeting cards? With the big Santa on top?

Oh yes, I said. Thoroughly. Twice.

This display adorns the foyer

She shook her head in sympathy. Then I'm pretty sure we don't have any Christmas stickers, she said.

I thanked her again and sighed and turned away. Yes! I had spent at least thirty minutes on my quest in that store, for something as simple as a pack of Christmas stickers.

Call it an hour if you count all the time I spent doing the same thing at Hobby Lobby.

For all in tents and porpoises, I gave up.

Andrew, Brittany, and Ember

That night we had church and on the way home I said to TG: Let's go to Kroger because I need a few things and I bet they will have Christmas stickers there.

Hope springs eternal.

And they did. There were ony two designs and one was Snoopy but since I needed so many, I settled for a theme that had not really been what I was looking for, but was pretty enough and Christmasy enough.

Note to the pirate: Take yes for an answer.

Here's what you'll see when you come to my front door

If I have your address, you got a card with one of these and I hope you didn't throw it away now that you know what I went through.

And yes please do pepper me with suggestions of where I should have looked for Christmas stickers, and how I should have started looking earlier, or perhaps even bought them online in plenty of time for when I needed them.

I have not thought of any of those things, or accused myself of poor judgment in this area, so please do have a go at me. 

Rhett was ready to rumble

In other news, last Saturday TG and I traveled to Simpsonville to the Cracker Barrel there (remember, Jeanette?) to have lunch with Henry and my sister Kay and her husband Pierre-Philippe.

Kay had a birthday this week, and I wanted to give them their treat-filled Christmas baskets that I'd made, so it worked out well.

I also took along a small chocolate cake that a (very nice) worker at Kroger ruined by writing my sister's name -- three letters! -- upon said cake in a way so disproportionate and odd-looking that I was truly flabbergasted.

We'll put this pillow at your back when you come to visit me

But I did not say anything except: Thanks!

Bygones. It did not affect the taste of the cake, which was truly fresh and delicious, and which we all enjoyed.

TG and I also got a birthday balloon for my sister and I clipped it to something in the middle of the table at the restaurant. As we were just beginning to drive home after the party, though, I remembered that we had not brought it out of the restaurant with us.

Ember's party had a barnyard theme

I texted Kay: Your balloon! We forgot it! She responded: I never even saw it!

Help me to understand.

Where was it? She texted. Floating above the table, I responded.

My lazy Susan is decorated with various things

Where, for all I know, it floats even now.

TG's philosophy at such times: Let it go. And he is right.

Dagny got sick and had to miss her Christmas program at church last Sunday night. She spent Monday at my house, sleeping most of the time.

She missed her balloon but we ate her cake with the funny-looking writing on top

But she recovered sufficiently to participate in her piano recital on Thursday evening (last night, as I write this), for which she played a simple but effective rendition of Silent Night.

Afterwards I asked her to pose at the piano. The result was a picture that prompted me to caption it when I sent it out later in a group text to Audrey, Erica, Andrew, Stephanie, Chad, Brittany, and TG: At some things she is a beginner but at other things she is not.

We're glowing to have a great time at Christmas

Eight going on eighteen, is all I have to say.

And now we are in the thick of it, with Christmas a mere eight days away.

All of my gift shopping is complete with the exception of a few stocking stuffers that I plan to pick up next week.

Dagny is eight going on eighteen

Everything is wrapped and waiting under the tree.

Before it's all over we will have Melanie's birthday party on the 22nd, followed by first Christmas (the same night but as separate events) with Stepanie's family, one Christmas party (Christmas Eve buffet at Erica's house), second Christmas (with Chad, Erica, Rhett, Audrey, and Dagny on Christmas Day), and third Christmas (with Andrew, Brittany, and Ember on the 29th).

Merry Christmas from TG and me and all the family

Then we'll blink once or twice and it will be 2023.

I plan to enjoy every single last solitary second of it and I hope you do too.

And that is all for now.

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Happy Weekend

Friday
Dec022022

Remembering till it hurts

Follow the path to the overlook

Ahoy, mateys.

I hope you had a blessed and love-filled Thanksgiving with many sweet faces to look upon and plentiful scrumptious goodies to eat.

We certainly did. There were a few bumps in the road but none of us are too much the worse for wear.

So preoccupied have I been that I just realized it's one week and then some, since the aforementioned quintessential fall holiday. Where that week went, I will never know.

The wall of names resembles accordion-pleated marble

I guess I would have to say that it went mostly to cleaning and decorating and getting organized for Christmas.

Some shopping may have taken place as well.

I have technically been finished with Christmas gift buying for a few weeks, but you know how it is: there are always loose ends that need tying up.

The stark concrete walls are broken in places, revealing the sky

Someone whose gift idea didn't work out, forcing you to change directions. The returning and replacing of things. Planning and buying of stocking stuffers and such like.

It will all be fine.

But a few weeks ago I promised to tell you about the second leg of our late-October trip, which began with a visit to my friend Sara and her husband Marty, in Virginia.

So let's get started.

The Tower of Voices late on an October afternoon

On the day we left Sara and Marty's bucolic environs, we were headed for a place that, in late summer this year, I developed a hankering to see with my own eyes.

(It followed my chance reading of this short essay by Ben Domenech on his substack, The Transom.)

And that place was Shanksville, Pennsylvania.

Trivia: The crash did not actually take place in Shanksville. The address of the Flight 93 National Memorial is Stoystown, Pennsylvania.

The structure delineating the flight path, from a distance

Stoystown proper is located a few miles northwest of the crash site.

It is more accurate to say that Flight 93 ended its journey in Stonycreek Township.

(I imagine that the first reporters on the scene referred to the site as Shanksville, as it is the nearest town.)

(Certainly many of the first responders to the scene came from Shanksville.)

The gate leads onto the field and to the place of impact

It took us less than three hours to get there. it was a sunny, windy, chilly day that would see me needing to add an extra layer to my outfit before heading out to the field where the heroes died.

First though, we drove into the town and saw the same sign that Ben Domenech mentions in his article.

Welcome to Shanksville ... A Friendly Little Town.

Home of the Vikings.

One of the few pieces of the airplane showing United Airlines livery

And, below all of that: Shanksville Honors the Heroes of Flight 93.

It's unassuming farm country. There is nothing on your approach to the Flight 93 National Memorial that signals your proximity to it.

The original entrance to the memorial has been changed, and when you reach that first one via your phone's GPS, a vague sign points you in the direction of the new one.

We got there, and again: at a glance, there doesn't seem to be much to see.

The Visitor Center

First to come into view was the Tower of Voices, of which I'd read and which I was eager to both see and hear. It is ninety-three feet tall and there are forty chimes: one for each victim of the Flight 93 crash.

(There were forty-four souls abord the plane; the four terrorists are not counted among the victims.)

I'd assumed that the tower would be close to the other things, but it is in fact a good distance from the Visitor Center and Memorial Plaza, and from the crash site itself.

The chimes are motivated to ring only by the wind, and winds of at least twelve miles an hour must prevail in order for them to sound.

This sign welcomes visitors to Shanksville

This day, the ambient winds were light, wafting through at perhaps seven miles an hour. The voices were still.

I was disappointed at the silence. If you're interested, you can hear the chimes here.

But I am getting ahead of my own story. We visited the chimes as we were leaving the memorial site; first, we went to the Visitor Center.

It is an odd-looking structure until you realize what is going on. The approach is like walking towards a tunnel of sorts, with high walls which separate at intervals, and no ceiling.

It happened here: the field and the boulder, from the overlook

At your feet there is a walkway of stone that resembles black planks.

I later learned that the walls and the stone planks delineate the plane's flight path in its final moments. Their texture also mimics that of the hemlock trees that became part of the crash site.

Once inside the initial opening between the two walls, you see the Visitor Center itself.

Inside, there is a small gift shop, and then various displays and mementoes relating to the crash and the passengers.

It was an honor just to stand beside their pictures

Television monitors play, on an endless loop, the footage we have all memorized from that day.

You can stand at a bank of headphones and listen to the actual messages that several victims left for their loved ones on their answering machines or cell phones.

On display is a small piece of the plane -- one of the few pieces that survived and exist.

And of course there are pictures of the victims.

There is one chime for each silenced voice

By the time I had seen and heard all of this, my heart was hurting so badly that I had to get some fresh air.

Back outside, you keep walking on the black stone pathway until, off to the left, you are steered towards an observation deck.

From it, you can see the field where the plane crashed, at the edge of a grove of hemlock trees.

A seventeen-ton sandstone boulder moved there at some point from elsewhere on the site marks the spot where Flight 93 made impact with the earth, traveling at a speed of 563 miles an hour.

First responders are appropriately memorialized

The field is enclosed by a low wall, and there is a discreetly placed gate through which only family members, and the occasional government official, are allowed to pass.

After hanging out on the observation deck for a time, I went back inside the Visitor Center in search of TG.

We decided to drive down to Memorial Plaza rather than take the long walkway there from the Visitor Center.

An informative talk was being delivered by someone official but we decided to keep walking towards the field.

The overlook offers a sweeping panorama of the crash site

Once there, all you can do is look. You can try to imagine what those people went through, but nothing in your experience compares to it, or even comes close.

You look back at the concrete tunnel that marks the plane's flight path, and see how short a time there would have been from that place, to the place where it ended.

The boulder sits marking the spot and you gaze at it, thinking about all that it means.

There is a wall of corrugated marble with all of the names, and past that, the gate that I talked about before.

Never Forget: September 11, 2001

By this time, grief was dogging my steps. We decided it was time move on.

If you have never been to the Flight 93 Memorial and you're curious as to what all I am talking about, this YouTube video offers an informal guided tour that you may want to watch.

Before leaving the area, TG and I each took one another's picture beside the pictures of the victims.

On the way out, we stopped at the Tower of Voices and wished that the winds were stronger.

I appreciated the freedom to walk in ... and out

That was it. I had planned a place for us to eat in nearby Somerset, and we made our way there.

After supper, we drove to Pittsburgh.

Next time, I'll tell you what we did there.

Meanwhile, I hope you will enjoy every minute of this glorious Christmas season.

And that is all for now.

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Happy Friday :: Happy December

Thursday
Nov242022

Lord make us thankful


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Here's your sign!

Monday
Nov142022

Melly Time

Melanie, ready for church on Sunday morning

Remember that line from the movie Cast Away where Tom Hanks's character, Chuck Noland, sets his watch (the one his girlfriend, Kelly, gave him for Christmas), and announces that he's on Kelly Time?

Well, even if you don't, we are on Melly Time.

As in, our granddaughter Melanie is here visiting with us by herself, until Thanksgiving when the rest of her family will join us.

(I haven't forgotten that I owe you more posts about our recent trip, but time is moving quickly and before it gets away from me altogether, I wanted to tell you about this.)

On Saturday TG and I drove up to Fort Mill, South Carolina, on the North Carolina line, and met Stephanie and Melly at the Cracker Barrel.

(Yes, Essie was there! I was able to hug her neck).

We had an early supper and then Melly's stuff was loaded into our vehicle and Stephanie left to drive home by herself and Melanie came with us.

Joel, my son-in-law, let me know recently that Stephanie could probably use a wee break from the constant care of Melanie, who will turn eighteen on the shortest day of this year.

Melly is a joy and we all adore her. The fact remains, though, that she can be a lot of work. Our Steph rarely if ever has a day, or even part of a day, where her eldest child is not serving as her mother's shadow.

Dagny did not get the memo about wearing black and white

So I said well, I would love some time with Melly to myself, which has not happened since the summer of 2017.

(In the intervening years, Melanie developed a few behavioral issues that made her mom reluctant to send her to me.)

But I assured Stephanie that I am not afraid of anything Melanie can or will do, and I said that I would love to have her with me for as long as her parents could part with her.

(As it happens, my first grandchild has behaved like an angel; I think that like most kids, she saves the drama for her mama.)

In fact, she is just about the most agreeable person I have ever hung out with.

She eats (with great enthusiasm) whatever I serve her, goes to bed early and sleeps for twelve hours, and does not talk back.

(That's because she does not talk at all except to say yes and no at the appropriate times. And you have to know what Melanie's yesses and nos sound like, to catch her meaning.)

After a full day yesterday which included going to church twice, today we made a list of all the things we needed to accomplish.

So far we have made the beds, had our breakfast/coffee time, cleaned the kitchen to include sweeping the floor, taken a walk, done some laundry, and tidied up a few rooms that needed it.

These are just a few of the things Susan gave to Melanie

As each thing gets done, we strike it off our list.

One thing was to write this blog post, so write it I am and strike it I will. Melanie gets a big kick out of the striking process.

Yesterday during Sunday morning service, it was noted that all of us girls except Dagny had worn black and white.

(It was not planned; blanc noir is a popular color motif amongst the ladies in our family.)

So after church, TG was pressganged into taking a picture of all of us. For posterity and to mark Melly's fall visit.

On Sunday evening Melly had a surprise. A friend who sits near us with her husband and their own special-needs daughter, Kayla, brought Melanie a gift bag full of crafty things to occupy one such as Melanie.

There was construction paper (to make paper chains to decorate for Thanksgiving), stickers, markers, colored pencils, crayons, glue sticks, small craft kits, and other goodies.

Was that not the most thoughtful thing for my friend Susan to do?

Susan and Melanie

She knows what the caregivers of a disabled adult have to deal with, as she has filled that office for her own child, for thirty years.

Susan and Stephanie have become acquainted and had a few heart-to-heart chats over time, and Susan has been a help to Stephanie.

So now we'll see if I can convince Melanie to engage in some creative play time after our chores are completed.

Wish me luck.

And that is all for now except to say, what are you up to?

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Happy Monday

Thursday
Nov102022

Virginia sojourn

New Market Battlefield

TG and I have been busy tripping and falling.

As in, we took a fall trip. We've been home for over a week, but in the interim we had a houseguest.

Now I want my own farm in the Shenandoah Valley

Naturally, we were not able to travel to better fall foliage country during peak leaf time. That happy coincidence generally eludes us.

BUT we did go, and it was fall, and there were leaves, and many of them were very beautiful indeed.

It was gorgeous from every angle

Where did the Pirate go? you may be asking yourself at this juncture.

We went to Virginia and points north. I will tell you about it in this and the next several posts.

Sara loves critters, both inside and outside

Let's start with Virginia -- specifically, the Shenandoah Valley.

We went there to visit my old friend Sara and her husband Marty.

If you want homey and inviting, this is it

I first met Sara in 1978 when she was a newlywed (not to Marty; that/he came later) and I was almost engaged, and then engaged, to TG.

We both worked at a ladies' apparel store named Evans, located in Southlake Mall in Merrillville, Indiana.

We talked about sitting by the fire pit one night but we never did it

Sara worked in the office, in bookkeeping, and I worked on the sales floor.

So then, I got married and both Sara and I began having babies. We ended up with a total of ten: six for her and four for me.

Inside, Sara does farmhouse like nobody's business

I no longer worked at Evans after I got married, and neither did she after awhile, but we attended the same church.

Over the years, until Sara moved away around 1986, we hung out a lot. For example, we've taken many a shopping trip to Chicago.

If you know, you know.

Everywhere you looked there were charming collections

Often our men would take in a Chicago Cubs baseball game while we girls shopped, and we'd all meet up later for dinner.

Once, we two couples took a dinner cruise on Lake Michigan. I remember because I ended up with food poisoning.

Bovine units are a favorite motif

Sometimes, on summer nights, we'd all drive to Highland Park, north of Chicago, and attend a concert at Ravinia Festival -- a favorite place of mine still to this day.

We'd almost always take an elaborate picnic meal to eat as we sat on the lawn, complete with candles for our portable Crate & Barrel table, which came with its own carrying bag. Ours was white.

This sign was at one of the stores we shopped in

In the cold months, we got together for family meals and the occasional party with other friends.

I visited Sara a few times after she moved away, and once she came back to the region for a couple of days before we moved away, but until week before last, I had not seen her since 1991.

Here's where we had a lovely lunch

That's right! I had not laid eyes on my friend in person for over thirty years.

We kept in touch though, and always knew where each other were and how we were doing.

If you're looking for the nicest people in the world, here they are

Eleven years ago, Sara remarried. I was so happy for her, as she had been single for many years.

Let's pull over and park her for a mo.

Sara and me back in the day ... as in, 1988 ... as young wives and mothers

An interesting bit of trivia is that Sara's youngest, a daughter, a few years ago married the youngest son of my mother's doctor.

The meeting of Sara's daughter and my mother's doctor's son was sheer coincidence, in no way either linked to or facilitated by me, or as a result of Sara's and my friendship. 

The two kids were married before Mom got sick, hence before I even met my mom's doctor and his wife.

Sara and me now, as senior citizens and grandmothers

In fact, at bridal showers leading up to her wedding, Sara's daughter met and adored my mother, who never realized that the bride-to-be was the daughter of my lifelong friend.

(The doctor's wife/groom's mother, who was one of my mom's besties, believes that my mother never heard or read the bride's maiden name, or she would surely have recognized it.)

TG and me with Sara and Marty, who is a prince of a man

It's just one of those things. My mother's doctor and his wife have ended up being our friends too, as we became close during my mother's illness.

Back to the main story.

Me in the door of the smokehouse on the Bushong farm, beside the New Market Battlefield

Last January, Sara and Marty up and moved from where they lived in another state, to the Shenandoah Valley.

They purchased their dream dwelling: a circa-1887 Virginia farmhouse on several acres nestled between the Blue Ridge and Appalachian mountain ranges.

Sara has a room dedicated to Civil War memorabilia

Sara is skilled at decorating with antiques and the farm vibe, and she is devoted to that lifestyle. She even has three Angus cows: Daisy, Molly, and Bluebell.

They also have a dog, a German shepherd named Jovie. Jovie and I fell deeply in love during our visit.

Jovie, eyeballing the treat in my hand

We got to the farm around four o'clock in the afternoon on a gorgeous fall day, to find Sara and Marty sitting on their front porch awaiting our arrival.

Once we'd hugged it out with Sara and met Marty, and he had met us, we took a moment to absorb the beauty and peace of our surroundings.

Sara is partial to primitive decor

Then we went inside.

The house smelled like the succulent roast Sara was cooking, and everything looked just as I knew it would.

The parlor with its exposed beams and punched tin lamp

After a delicious home-cooked dinner, we sat around talking for hours.

The next day had been planned by our hosts for doing the kinds of things we all like to do: shopping, eating, and sightseeing. A liberal sprinkling of history was included, because all of us enjoy that.

If God is in the details, Sara has been deputized by the Almighty

Mainly we hung around in New Market, Virginia, where there is all of the above, and then some.

Lunch was at the Southern Kitchen.

Every corner held something interesting to look at

We toured the Virginia Museum of the Civil War and the New Market Battlefield.

Back at home in the late afternoon, Sara made another mouthwatering meal and, for dessert, served her homemade pecan and pumpkin pies.

Another one of those magnificent lamps

I have never tasted such pecan pie. I have asked for the recipe and am assured by Sara that she will share it with me.

More reminiscing followed, in Sara and Marty's comfortable and cozy living room (next to the parlor).

Time to say goodbye

One more sleep, and it was time to go.

After a few more hours of lively conversation over breakfast, TG and I took our leave.

Jovie, waiting for next time

We were assured that there would be a "next time" and I look forward fervently to that.

Maybe we will manage to go in peak leaf season.

Our next destination was special and poignant and I can't wait to share it with you.

Next time.

And that is all for now.

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Happy Thursday