Vicki Lane's Blog, page 15

The Oldest Person You Know

Scrolling through Facebook on a hot day, I came across one of those things  "Find Your Stripper/Witch/Drag Queen Name" and foolishly read on.
Your first name is the name of the oldest person you know . . . and that stopped me cold as I realized I know only a handful of  people older than I (82).  And that's only by a few months or a couple of years.
Of course I know of some folks in their nineties and beyond, but suddenly it was borne in on me that among the folks around that I count as friends, I am definitely the older generation. 
It's weird. In my grade at school I was always the youngest (and usually the tallest -- now I've lost a few inches.) 
Ch-ch-ch-change. The wheel turns and I shouldn't be surprised.


 

Dog Days

Still too hot.
 

Still True

 No man is an island, 

Entire of itself.

Each is a piece of the continent,

A part of the main.

If a clod be washed away by the sea,

Europe is the less

As well as if a promontory were.

As well as if a manor of thine own

Or of thine friend's were.

Each man's death diminishes me,

For I am involved in mankind.

Therefore, send not to know 

For whom the bell tolls,

It tolls for thee.

                     John Donne, 1572-1631

Chicken Salad Memories

Hot weather like we're having requires cold meals. I've done cold potato soup and gazpacho and last night was chicken salad. (And potato chips--a traditional accompaniment and rare indulgence.)
As we sat on the porch watching veils of rain sweep across the valley and disappear, we remembered another hot summer.  
It was the summer of 1966, the last three months of John's enlistment in the Marines,  and he was stationed at an air base in Beaufort, SC. (That's Byew-fort, not Bow-fort. Bow-fort is in NC.) We were in half of a non-air conditioned duplex and it was godawful hot. 
I evolved a routine of preparing dinner in the early morning before the house heated up, then spending the rest of the day reading in a hammock out under a big oak.
We cycled through chicken salad, tuna salad, and shrimp salad, broken by chicken or hamburgers done outside on a hibachi.
When the heat was unbearable, sometimes we went to a movie (air-conditioned!) The movies changed once a week, but sometimes we saw the same movie twice.
There was a Dairy Queen across the street that we patronized. Our dog Juno , we learned, was also a patron--on the lookout for kids who might drop their ice cream if bumped. And sometimes she bumped them.
On John's days off, we went to a mostly deserted beach and set up camp in the dunes. We could often see porpoises frolicking close to shore. It was pretty idyllic.
By the end of the summer, John had been accepted at University of South Florida and had turned down an offer to re-enlist and go to Officers' Training School. I had my teaching position  (Mistress of English) at Berkeley Prep in Tampa to return to and the future was set--for a few more years, at least.
Old times they are not forgotten.


 

Too Hot for Words

 

Greensleeves

                                            

I always loved the old tune Greensleeves--in fact I wanted to use it as part of the music at our wedding. The Episcopal church would only allow liturgical music, but as it happened, there was a hymn with the Greensleeves tune. .. . but because the title of the hymn was What Child Is This? I reconsidered.

When my FB friend Mario posted a video that tells the story behind the old song and details the meticulous recreation of the various items the besotted lover gives to the lady, including a sumptuous gown, well, I had to see it.

It's a delightful treat for a hot day. Actually, there are two videos. One, showing the work of the various makers of historically accurate apparel and confectionery; the other a sumptuously mounted, tongue in cheek acting out of the song.  You can find them HERE                                

 

No Nobel for You, Donnie

After a truly unhinged rant bemoaning his lack of a Nobel Peace Prize despite his YUGE successes in diplomacy,  Dear Leader has dropped many YUGE bombs on Iran -- without congressional input and without reliable intelligence concerning Iran's nuclear activities. He was disappointed with his parade so now he flexes his military might.

This is what happens when a man with all the emotional control of a toddler is given power.

Worth a Silver Spoon

A swarm of bees in May is worth a load of hay.A swarm of bees in June is worth a silver spoon.A swarm of bees in July is not worth a fly.
I was thrilled when John told me he'd spotted a swarm of honeybees at the edge of one of our fields. We've often seen them browsing on clover but this is the first swarm we've noticed. Thanks to Justin for the pictures! (I have no idea if the video will play.)
The old nursery rhyme is a reminder that the earlier swarms will have more time to establish themselves and make honey to get through the winter.


 

Dear (Local) Sirs

To the Madison County Board of Commissioners:
I would like to understand why you feel it necessary to take control of the current Board of Health. At present we have a Health Department to be proud of and willing, volunteer board members with medical backgrounds. 
What makes you think you can improve on this? Have you not enough to oversee already? Your stated reasons regarding liability simply do not ring true. 
Yes, this is a very local issue but it seems to me to be part and parcel of GOP overreach and GOP disdain for qualifications other than a fervent worship of their Dear Leader.
Our local Health Department is excellent, receiving high ratings. What is behind this projected power grab? Will a politicized BOH deny vaccines and refuse to treat LGBTQ patients?  What might they change about Family Planning? 
There are petitions to sign and folks are encouraged to make their feeling known to the commissioners. There will be a meeting on July 8 at which the public will have a chance to be heard. 
An excellent article HERE.


 

Summer Solstice

                                                            

     I consider my life well spent, watching the sun in its yearlong creep back and forth across the morning horizon. Today it's at the far northern end of its invisible tether and will begin its stately progress south.

May we all find peace in these troubled times.