Memorial Day

Memorial Day is a United States federal holiday observed on the last Monday of May (May 31 in 2010). Formerly known as Decoration Day, it commemorates U.S. men and women who died while in the military service.[1] First enacted to honor Union soldiers of the American Civil War (it is celebrated near the day of reunification after the Civil War), it was expanded after World War I.

from wikipedia

In Our Youth Our Hearts Were Touched With Fire, a speech by Oliver Wendell Holmes.

Those who made the ultimate sacrifice for the liberty, freedom and betterment of others are remembered today. May God bless and comfort the loved ones that mourn them.

Song Memory: Sunshine On My Shoulders

I think I am going to blog occasionally about something I'll call song memory. I know much has been written about sense memory and even scent memory. That would be the concepts of how our own senses and emotional responses are linked to the circumstances of certain memories. For example, the smells of certain things, trigger in us the remembrance of a certain person, place or time. Sometimes songs do that for me. Music profoundly affects me, and I know that to be true for many folks.



I associate Sunshine on My Shoulders by John Denver with a distinct day from my childhood. Every time I hear it, my first response is that I recall a little fragment of an actual of a day in my life. I am about 7 or 8 and with my oldest dearest friend, J. We are in rural Pennsylvania, walking down a narrow, slightly overgrown woodsy path that runs alongside a small lake. Sunlight is glistening on the water and on the leaves of the trees and shrubs. The path leads to a small dam, and being brave and young we always have to walk across it. It takes a bit of fearlessness and balance. J. is so much more coordinated than I am, she leads even though she's younger than me. It was a great way to spend a summer.

The Land of Mañana

Mañana is the Spanish word for tomorrow. In this sense it refers to procrastination. One of my eldest son's teachers taught me the term. He refers to the Florida Keys as The Land of Mañana, where almost everything can be put off until tomorrow and nothing needs to really be addressed today.


There is an unofficial malaise known as Keys Disease. Some people come to live in this place, a place that is so much like a paradise, and it is a good experience. People seem to de-stress and unwind. For instance, I don't get all bent out of shape about driving in traffic anymore. There is one main road in and out of here and it's just futile to get crazy when there is a hold up of any kind that causes traffic. When I have occasion to drive on the mainland and get stuck in traffic I just don't let it bother me anymore. That is one example of the upside of living in a place like this and its laid-back attitude. I learned a sort of patient acceptance for things like traffic.

But what about when it contributes to inefficiency, laziness and un-dependablity? That is not cool. I found this definition of Keys Disease. I agree with kevin d's definition, but I think there is more to it. And it kind of governs, and infuses things down here. Like any small town or isolated area I expect that things will be done at a different pace. However, there are times when this gets carried to an extreme, and it is unnecessary. Here are a few small examples.

I have always struggled with the bad habit of being late. Down here I find myself tested to the limit, because I am early compared to most people. I think to myself, I'm not that bad, it's just a few minutes. It is that bad! Late is late and wrong is wrong. Our church service begins at 10:45 am, and there are at least 10-20 people that show up at 11:15-11:30. People are 10 minutes late to work more often than not. I feel so guilty for being one of them. "Better late than never," right? Mas vale tarde que nunca. I remember it from my old high school Spanish lessons, but there was also a phrase that immediately followed it: Mas vale tempriano que tarde!

"Better late than never, Better early than late!"

There is just a laid back spirit that gets carried too far down here. Keys Disease. Try not to catch it.


Above photo by olga.palma

my TV pleasure: Lost

Above image by Edwin Ushiro from Lost Underground Art Show


I am just going to post my brief thoughts:

What occurred to me while thinking about the most recent episode, (episode 615 "Across the Sea")is how LOST mankind is. (If you are not a LOST fan and have never seen the show, DO NOT start on that episode!) When I began watching the series, all I could think about was the characters being mysteriously, yet simply lost. Like Tom Hanks in Cast Away. Just lost as in "off the map."

Then over the course of season 1, when more of the island and its other inhabitants were revealed, I thought, Is the island like that of Dr. Moreau? Or is this show something like "The Most Dangerous Game?" Then, many people thought the castaways were supernaturally Lost. That possibly the island is purgatory, or hell, or some kind of wormhole to a parallel universe?

Now I am beginning to see it as a morality tale of sorts. Mankind is seen as LOST, where even the seemingly good characters must do something bad, like the purges and such.

I can't help but think of aspects of the Old Testament Bible.

* * *
Another LOST fan named Gracie wrote on Nikki Stafford's blog:

"Everyone, it seems has their own theory regarding Lost. Ok, so take your theory for just one second and set it aside. Within the first ten or fifteen minutes of Lost: Season Six, the writers wanted us to know that this island is underwater. They showed it to us. Everything as we last saw it, just now under the sea. Now can anyone pick back up their theory and apply it to an island that we know is underwater?
Anyone?"

I think she made an excellent point, that many of us LOST fans are forgetting.

Now it occurs to me as all the characters and threads are being woven together like the tapestry on Jacob's & his Mother's loom, weaving a bigger picture but I'm not sure how it will all turn out! But the ride has been fun and exciting. Only one more hour episode and then a 2.5 hour series finale to go.

The Toys Are Alive...

I like this commercial.

In the commercial, I particularly enjoy the scenes of the snow angel, bowling and the sea-doo/jet ski sequences. You see, long before Toy Story made a fabulous tale of it, and I was a wee lass with a grand imagination, I (also) liked to believe my toys came to life when they were alone. I even blew them kisses and bid them farewell and 'have a good time' before I left for a trip or a sleepover at a friend's house. So the thought of them going on adventures just tickles my fancy. Some other beloved tales of toys coming to life are The Velveteen Rabbit, The Steadfast Tin Soldier, and several other short story books whose titles escape my memory right now. I also like the song used in the commercial, How You Like Me Now, though it isn't on my ultra-frequent 'must listen to everyday' list like my current "Good Times, Bad Times" jaunt.

Speaking of toys, when Flora was a little child, she fell in love with one of her older brother's Star Wars toys. It is called Reek. We were blessed to find a slightly more little kid-friendly version, I think it might have been a gift from my brother. That way they each had their own "Reek" and there was harmony.

Even though Reek was hard plastic, with hooves and horns, she slept with it tucked under her arm like it was a soft teddy bear. My sons had more or less regular attachments to stuffed animals or little blankets during those young ages. Our Flora is quite unique.

Stuck On Something...

Do you ever crave something and it's like you can't get enough of it for awhile? I'm like that. For me, and for most of time, it usually has to do with music or food.

Photo by Adam_d_
There was a point in my recent history where I literally had to have my cheese grits for breakfast almost EVERY day. This went on for about a year and a half. OK well, literally and had to are an exaggeration, but I did have them for breakfast just that frequently, and for that amount of time. Now I have them once in awhile on a Saturday.

Last fall, after reading a post on Jorge Garcia's blog I had to listen to the song "Horchata" at least once a day. The other song I had to hear every day was "Say Hey" and that lasted throughout the past summer and fall.

My other daily delights have been as follows: I've gone through a phase of drinking Publix Raspberry iced tea with lime. I also had this hankering to soak in a certain mineral-mud-bath product almost every day. I also craved the scent of tea tree oil. Then I go off of those things, just get out of the habit of it for whatever reason. I still like the bath minerals, the raspberry tea, and the other things, but I don't find myself craving them like I once did. Can anyone else relate to that kind of frequent urge waxing and waning?

Image from here.
Nowadays, I'm chewing on crushed ice, and when I'm not chewing on it, I'm thinking, I sure could use some crushed ice right now. That probably has to do with the beautifully warm weather. I also have to have a banana every morning and an apple in the afternoon. As for songs, I've been listening to "Good Times, Bad Times." Why?

I don't know. It's just this kick that I'm on.

What I'm Reading...

The Book of Ezra from the bible. Good stuff.

image from Phillip Martin
I have also just read a short and sweet little allegorical book, The Precious Present, which reminded me to live in the present, seize the day and be content in my current state of affairs, as St. Paul also reminded me/us here.

For the Moms, Step-moms, spiritual moms, like-a-moms, adoptive moms, biological moms, and motherly caregivers and teachers: Happy Mother's Day, ya'll.

I Like Our Dog

Please, don't tell my family. I will not admit to my family that I like our boy as much as I do, because I drew a proverbial line in the sand as we made plans to adopt him into our family. I made it clear that he is their dog and I don't intend to care for him or bear the responsibility at all.

This is because I have spent years cleaning up after people and pets, recall my widely spaced children. When I was a girl my parents were firm about us kids cleaning up after our pets. Obedient child that I was, I did, and I was fine with that. As I grew up, I still had pets to clean up after, and got married and had a husband to clean up after. Then I had kids and I have been cleaning up diapers and puke and all the messes that being a mother entails (example).

When I had a choice to limit my responsibilities, by opting to not have pets for a long stretch of time, it was easy to get used to not having that extra stuff to do. The constant vacuuming, the occasional flea troubles, the vet visits and bills. For awhile I just didn't miss it all. When my family began pushing really hard to get a pet, I did not acquiesce. I would not agree to it unless they shouldered the duty.

This became a crystal-clear bone of contention (haha) when we first moved to the Keys and our boy had a vet appointment which I refused to take him to. But that it not a story I'm going to tell here. That was some domestic discord.

I'm more of a cat person myself, but I had both dogs and cats over the years, and I have loved them all. But this dog is by far the best behaved, now that he's mellowed a bit. Our boy is a male border collie-yellow lab mix, and he is just over 2 years old. I have to admit I like him now. He's a pretty good dog. He was a royal pest of a puppy. He made my back hurt for 3 days one time when I walked him and he tried to yank me every way his nose thought to lead him. I worried about him for a short time when he got real snarly and grouchy with Calvin, our youngest child. I thought to get rid of him then, but somehow the pecking order was reestablished and he knows he can't usurp Calvin's place in the pack. He has calmed down quite a bit. He's neither bark-y or jumpy. He's crate trained and house trained. He never runs away from me any more, I can let him out without a leash and he will do his business and return to me when I call. He has never chewed on and ruined anything important. He sticks to his raw-hides and the occasional stuffed animal, or maybe and old bottle he's rummaged from the recycling bin (he reuses it then reduces it). He is quite different than the other beloved family pets who destroyed shoes, got up on kitchen counters after food, urinated on purses, and really made a mess of certain embarrassing items they rooted out of the trash.

He's just a good dog that keeps getting better.

So I continue to play indifferent around the family. Keeps them on their toes, and me off of doggie duty and P.U.P (picking up poop). You see, if I show too much affection for OB, they will surely begin to place more and more of his care under my responsibility and believe me, I have enough to do already!

Now, hushhhh, ya'll...I him!

Interesting Photo

The above photo circulated the internet many (?) years ago and it stunned and fascinated me when I first saw it. After a little research over at snopes.com I was relieved to learn that the sea creature is a dolphin and not a shark! But, Oh what a picture! What gives me chills is that at first glance I thought it was a shark. I was not alone in that assessment. Then there is the size of the dolphin (9-10 ft.?) compared to the size and proximity of the surfer. Look closely at the dorsal fin, it's curved and the tail fin is horizontal rather than vertical, characteristic of dolphins and porpoises.

My family moved to Florida when I was in my early teens, and for a short time we lived in Indiatlantic, at a condo right on the beach. I remember swimming alone in the ocean one day, chest deep in the water. I was facing the horizon, when in front of me and a little to the right a dorsal fin cut through the surface o the ocean. It was about 10 feet away from me. I froze. The adrenalin coursed through my body but I could not move. I was so relieved when the body beneath the dorsal fin curved into a hump and I realized it was a dolphin. Still, being that close to something wild and that big, frightened me. I'll never forget it.

laugh a little and a good link

A pastor, a doctor and an engineer were waiting one morning for a particularly slow group of golfers. The engineer fumed, "What's with these guys? We must have been waiting for 15 minutes!" The doctor chimed in, "I don't know, but I've never seen such ineptitude! "The pastor said, "Hey, here comes the greens keeper. Let's have a word with him." [dramatic pause]

"Hi, George. Say, what's with that group ahead of us? They're rather slow, aren't they?"

The greens keeper replied, "Oh, yes, that's a group of blind firefighters. They lost their sight saving our clubhouse from a fire last year, so we always let them play for free anytime."

The group was silent for a moment.

The pastor said, "That's so sad. I think I will say a special prayer for them tonight."

The doctor said, "Good idea. And I'm going to contact my ophthalmologist buddy and see if there's anything he can do for them."

The engineer said, "Why can't these guys play at night?"

How to Get Into Heaven

A man dies and mets St. Peter at the Pearly Gates. Peter says to the man, "Here's how it works. You need to have one hundred points to get into heaven. You tell me about all the good things you've done. They are all worth a certain number of points. If your total is one hundred or more, you can come in."

"Well," says the man. "I was happily married to the same woman for 52 years. I never looked at another woman. I was attentive and loved her dearly."

"That's great," says St. Peter. "That'll be two points."

"Hmmm," says the man. "This is going to be harder than I thought. Well, I attended church regularly, volunteered my time and tithed faithfully."

"Wonderful," says St. Peter, "That's worth another point."

"One point!" says the man. "Okay, okay. I was involved with a prison ministry for twenty-five years. I went into the prison, at least monthly, and shared Jesus with them."

"Wow!" says St. Peter. "That's another two points!"

"Only two points!" says the man. "At this rate, it'll be only by the grace of God that'll I'll ever get into this place."

"Bingo!" says St. Peter. "That's one hundred points! Come on in."
from: jokesclean.com

I love this post I found at The Sacred Sandwich.