oh so sweet fragrance
permeates throughout the house
anniversary
Autobiographical
Fritz
two peas in a pod
just hanging out together
kid, canine buddies
WPC: Friend
Four Dead In Ohio
Ohio
Lyrics by Patricia J. Griffin & Robert Plant
Performed by Neil Young
Tin soldiers and Nixon coming
We’re finally on our own
This summer I hear the drumming
Four dead in Ohio
Gotta get down to it
Soldiers are cutting us down
Should have been done long ago
What if you knew her
And found her dead on the ground
How can you run when you know?
Tension was palpable on the campus of the
University of Missouri in the spring of 1970.
With Nixon’s decision on April 30th to invade
Cambodia, protests against the Vietnam War
accelerated nationwide.
The Kent State Massacre on May 4, 1970, in
which unarmed college students were fired
upon by the Ohio National Guard, killed four
students and wounded nine others.
Outrage reached a feverish pitch, in turn
sparking a nationwide student strike.
In an unprecedented move, the University of
Missouri cancelled final exams, sending
students home early and putting a lid on the
situation before heretofore peaceful demon-
strations could turn violent.
Graduation ceremonies, scheduled to be held in
the football stadium, were relocated due to rain.
Rather than sit in an auditorium and view the
ceremonies via closed-circuit TV, which seemed
anticlimactic, I returned my unused cap and gown
to the book store and headed on down the road
to begin the next chapter of my life.
4 Dead In O-HI-O
***—————————————————-***
Finally…
On Monday, May 1, 2017, a total of 650 Vietnam
veterans from Nebraska boarded four jets as part
of an Honor Flight to Washington DC to tour the
nation’s war memorials and monuments.
Upon their return to the Lincoln airport that same
evening, they were greeted by thousands of waving
flags and wall to wall cheers.
This is in stark contrast to forty plus years ago, when
the majority of returning Vietnam veterans received
no welcome at all or jeers.
It’s about time.
Safe And Sound
Cradled by a mother’s arms
Wrapped in blanket soft and warm
Shielded from a world of harm
Beginning life truly charmed
WPC: Security
Number Three of Three
Being the youngest of three children
had its perks and pitfalls.I never had to be the first to do anything—
to walk, to talk, to ride a bike, to start
school, to succeed, to fail—so on and so forth.It was comforting and secure to trail behind
two older siblings who knew the ropes,
even when they chose to hang me out to dry,
rather than share their wisdom.It was nice to bask in the glow of their
accomplishments, although on occasion
I had to live down the reputation they had
already established, particularly in school.My sister was a discriminating learner.
If she liked the teacher and/or the subject,
she put her best foot forward.With his quirky sense of humor and smarts,
my brother cruised through academia
without breaking a serious sweat.I was the classic overachiever who piled on
the courses and was determined to get an “A”
even if I disliked the subject and/or the teacher.
In other words…’Miss Goody Two Shoes’.More than once I walked into a classroom
where the teacher’s first words were, “Are you
so and so’s sibling?”Or worse yet, “Not another (insert last name)
in my class!”While the move out-of-state after my
sophomore year in high school seemed
an injustice at the time, in reality it was
a blessing in disguise.The symbiotic sibling interplay was disrupted.
For the first time, I had a perfectly clean slate.Inspired by Daily Prompt – Symbiosis
Who Me, Nervous?
As sure as death and taxes,
it came around each year…
Girl Scout cookie sales.
Time to don my uniform
and hit the pavement.
Oakley Lane had seven houses
on each side of the street.
I started at the bottom and
worked my way up the hill.
My strategy was simple…
smile and hope for the best.
In the 1950’s, there was only
one variety of cookie to sell…
no Thin Mints or Shortbreads.
It was vanilla and chocolate
sandwich cookies, period.
If that didn’t tantalize their
taste-buds, I was doomed.
I trudged from house to house,
secretly hoping no one would
answer when I rang the doorbell.
Better yet, if a Girl Scout emblem
sticker was on display I figured I
could skip that house, as it signaled
they had already done their civic
duty by purchasing cookies.
After what seemed an eternity
of sweating bullets, I finally
arrived back home.
I had survived another outing.
The Fuller Brush man covering
our neighborhood didn’t need to
worry. His job was safe, as I was
definitely not cut out for sales.
Inspired by Daily Prompt – Nervous
Searching For That Pot Of Gold
Left to Right: Loyal, Kenly, Grandmother and Otis in 1931
Hopes and dreams
In the absence
Of a healthy dose of
Reality
Is a sure recipe for
Disaster
My uncle Loyal was the youngest of three boys in a family of five children.
I remember him to be an affable individual, with a broad smile, a true gift of gab and a kind heart.
Loyal was also a big dreamer, who generated a plethora of get rich quick schemes over the course of his lifetime.
Always in pursuit of the trophy fish, he threw back the daily keepers which could have provided ongoing sustenance and stability for his family.
He did in fact land a real whopper, once. Loyal created one of the very first scratch card games. It was a big hit in Canada. The dollars came rolling in.
My uncle moved his family from a modest apartment to a rambling estate along the Missouri River, complete with a swimming pool, pond and guest house. Life was good.
A failure to read the fine print, however, cost him in the end. After a few short years, the royalties slowed to a trickle and then stopped, altogether.
His family’s economic and emotional roller coaster hit bottom, again.
For his son Butch, it was the last straw. Enrolled in private school and living the high life one minute….with the phone disconnected and bill collectors at the door, the next. Humiliating for anyone to endure, it was especially devastating to a teenager.
Butch had a nasty “accident” while cleaning his gun. Although never officially ruled a suicide, I believe that to be the case. He was just fifteen.
I was sixteen when Butch died. His death was transformational. Overnight, I went from invincible teen to mere mortal, intimately staring death in the face for the first time.
I gained a new appreciation of how fortunate I was our family was never on that roller coaster ride with Butch.
I learned being a “Steady Eddie” daily breadwinner isn’t always glamorous, but it is one of the most admirable of traits to possess.
Sometimes being successful comes with unexpected costs.
Inspired by Daily Prompt – Successful
Home Away From Home
My husband and I have been visiting Estes Park, Colorado
and nearby Rocky Mountain National Park since 1981.
We were there in 1982 a few weeks before the Lawn Lake flood
in the park, which sent water barreling down the main drag
of Estes, while creating an alluvial fan and small lake within
RMNP.
We were there in 1991 when RMNP turned 75 and again in
2016 for RMNP’s 100th anniversary and our 40th year of
marriage.
We witnessed the devastation of the September, 2013 flood which
transformed the alluvial fan and recreated a small lake in RMNP
after all those years.
Just like our own lives, RMNP continues to evolve. Nothing can
remain the same.
The mountain vista view in this photo is one of my favorite places
within the park.
The wood bridge rails have been replaced with railroad ties, which
don’t have near the same ambience, in my opinion.
Nonetheless, each time I stand there and gaze into that picture
perfect mountain postcard, I know without a doubt that I am
home again.
Inspired by Discover Challenge: Finding Your Place
Call Me Old-Fashioned (WPC)
Nothing gets me in the holiday spirit
like pulling out my Christmas card list,
gathering up the stamps and address labels,
spreading my cards and envelopes on the table
and sitting down to send personal greetings
to friends and relatives.
When I was growing up in the 1950’s, we
always had a family Christmas card each
year. The cards traveled far and wide to
hundreds of people. There was a large
basket with holiday themed decorations
to hold the stacks of cards we received.
While I send far fewer cards today, I still
look forward to hearing back from people
and reading their notes scribbled inside.
WPC: It’s Not This Time of Year Without….
I Owe You One, Bro
I was never much of
a science or math buff.
I made a point of meeting,
rather than exceeding,
credit hour requirements.With algebra and plane
geometry under my belt,
I steered clear of calculus
and trigonometry.In the science realm, physics,
chemistry and astronomy
incorporated way too much
math to suit me, so I selected
biology, instead.The study of plants and
animals seemed pretty benign
at first glance.But when it came time to wield
our trusty scalpels to
dissect insects, worms and
a frog, I was aghast.They expected me to TOUCH
those nasty things?Worse yet, we had to collect
our own insects to dissect.Fortunately, my brother
was enamored with
all things biological at the time.
He eagerly volunteered
to assist in securing the
required specimens.Off we headed to the playground
at Tillman Elementary School,
which was surrounded by fields
of tall grasses and weeds.In no time flat, we had
jars full of insects
floating belly up in alcohol.
We headed home with
our stash.By the time we reached
the front door, my brother’s
face was red and itchy.
In short order, his eyes
were swollen shut.We learned later
the field was full of goosefoot
and he had suffered
an acute allergic reaction
to the pollen.My brother paid the price
for my class project.I felt ALMOST as bad for him
as the dead bugs.
Happy 70th Birthday!
Out of My Write Mind 