tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-45263875843811916072024-02-19T10:50:49.655-06:00 The Keeping RoomFireLighthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06807248509319526615noreply@blogger.comBlogger118125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4526387584381191607.post-87316231409642681222019-02-06T17:44:00.000-06:002019-02-06T17:44:32.263-06:00Just Checking In.....Hello, World! Well, gosh darn and boy howdy...it has been a long time since I have been here! You know what, I got busy living and traveling. Then, my blog mentor left the country, though she is keeping us all posted on Facebook. It was just this time of year, ten years ago, when I tumbled along the internet highway looking for a certain water colorist when I stopped for my first visit to Tess Kincaid's blog...and... it just happened to be a very extraordinary place. After being totally enchanted by Willow Manor for a few weeks, I decided to try my hand. So, by way of updating you, here are some images.<br />
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Citrus in the California kitchen of dear friends John & Chuck </div>
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Clover keeping watch...she is the newest resident here at the cottage</div>
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Self portrait or glorified selfie</div>
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January in Monterey...magical double rainbow</div>
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Yosemite falls ...June 2016</div>
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Gulf coast sunset near Seaside, FL</div>
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Mineral King Valley, in Kings Canyon, CA</div>
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Spence Cottage, 2015, our home for a week near Chichester, England</div>
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American Cream horses in Williamsburg, VA</div>
FireLighthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06807248509319526615noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4526387584381191607.post-61919703004316384712014-07-20T08:04:00.001-05:002017-10-31T15:37:37.469-05:00Mountain Vision<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMPKCtLUpRPWnQBYd_E7Hh8cx-M4L1LARmpTwy4HooNgBOAQn7NSauJdDMeYEbPeZYny7aT7Tddq_kOzgH-UeCYs8w-JIECyY7fJ46taIu_Df5BGzfGW6UT8gB78kDmf-RwVoshsr8-Og/s1600/ArrowheadRdView+%25281%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMPKCtLUpRPWnQBYd_E7Hh8cx-M4L1LARmpTwy4HooNgBOAQn7NSauJdDMeYEbPeZYny7aT7Tddq_kOzgH-UeCYs8w-JIECyY7fJ46taIu_Df5BGzfGW6UT8gB78kDmf-RwVoshsr8-Og/s1600/ArrowheadRdView+%25281%2529.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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Heading for the hills of North Georgia</div>
FireLighthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06807248509319526615noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4526387584381191607.post-32150456819784448832014-07-12T19:35:00.001-05:002014-07-12T19:35:03.512-05:00In the good old summer time...<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
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The Pecan Orchard </div>
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One of my favorite summer places...</div>
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FireLighthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06807248509319526615noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4526387584381191607.post-76600528264266796872014-04-03T09:30:00.000-05:002014-04-03T09:27:27.251-05:00100 years ago today! Happy Birthday, Nina!<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdmvg0CtcmI2WUQ_TBb42XBCq9IBix8uPuqoszE9FBvMkvegjWWQuwuhCKOwST6FqScKoQEyv2b8nL_DO_UoDbeBTfxwIcy_f8r82hIA49Nhv_Bcu9L15jzR_7wAGZs0G7XImWxCYnzHE/s1600-h/Nina1.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdmvg0CtcmI2WUQ_TBb42XBCq9IBix8uPuqoszE9FBvMkvegjWWQuwuhCKOwST6FqScKoQEyv2b8nL_DO_UoDbeBTfxwIcy_f8r82hIA49Nhv_Bcu9L15jzR_7wAGZs0G7XImWxCYnzHE/s400/Nina1.jpg" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5320994163987334850" style="float: left; height: 400px; margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; width: 281px;" /></a><br />
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Nina (pronounced with a long I) was my mother. Today would have been her 100th birthday. She passed out of this realm in April of 1982, but her spirit and humor are alive and palpable in my home. She was near 40 when I was born, so I have no personal memories of her as a young woman, other than a few cherished photographs. Two of my favorite stories about her early days are how I love to think of her. The first night she met my father, a young Army Air Corp officer, instead of a gentleman's polite goodnight, he said to her, " I am going to marry you." This was not long after she had won a contest as a Clara Bow look alike. I think you will agree that she deserved it. That's Nina on the left, and Clara on the right. I really think the IT girls have a certain twinkle in their eyes. (Updated from an original post on this date 2009, the year I began this blog.)</div>
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FireLighthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06807248509319526615noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4526387584381191607.post-22936901405994156112013-02-01T12:43:00.000-06:002013-10-18T15:28:27.938-05:00Vintage Valentine<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-size: large;">Found on eBay....a fun place for the nostalgic</span>.</div>
<br />FireLighthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06807248509319526615noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4526387584381191607.post-91391413354430436202012-10-27T21:18:00.001-05:002012-10-27T21:39:07.052-05:00Thank you, Laura!!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-size: large;">While I was riding my horse all about the countryside in search of evening wear....I remembered something I have longed for...</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">One of the things I have so wanted is to get back to my sewing room...well I just popped in this afternoon to find some black taffeta and velvets...and while I was going through my pattern box and dreaming of the days when Laura Ashley reigned in my wardrobe...well.....ah....I looked up and there she was....my English fairy godmother.....I showed her a few patterns....told her I needed something by midnight...she waved her magic scissors and measuring tape.....and ..here it is!!!!!</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Simple elegance</span>!</div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Thank you, my dear!</span></div>
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FireLighthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06807248509319526615noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4526387584381191607.post-64540825047000697282012-10-27T14:59:00.000-05:002012-10-27T15:01:37.589-05:00What to wear??<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmc2ffLtz5KEbdgmfwcLGuhD6KwDPl5mnqm2DHGYGFX9skkY2FIHgTEO0t0nTyT199_TAeqm8Q1TuWOrg_tifpDrxtfy_zBTRrDFCiVj1mZ0pOG-4JhUFcumgXWI7DQpFaVHneejA0BbU/s1600/ohara.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmc2ffLtz5KEbdgmfwcLGuhD6KwDPl5mnqm2DHGYGFX9skkY2FIHgTEO0t0nTyT199_TAeqm8Q1TuWOrg_tifpDrxtfy_zBTRrDFCiVj1mZ0pOG-4JhUFcumgXWI7DQpFaVHneejA0BbU/s400/ohara.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">The The Willow Manor Ball will commence in a few hours,</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"> and I have no clue </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">as to what I will be wearing. I do have a mask...</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">hmm??? Off to the wardrobe ....</span></div>
FireLighthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06807248509319526615noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4526387584381191607.post-70378014629018052882012-10-01T12:40:00.000-05:002013-02-02T22:07:29.791-06:00Welcome October & Soup!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiJWiWq2fQTYO0Vs0AGZxRfyOQih7q4hTvYYM0kWt3K-vpgxE-4cjHWdMRuNlvWcFETi7INSxjdTNsL6NbeiHaL6ocZh0kMKjBjyjWzjL_xlPjSt6034L_NgpyxR2AmprZinHqhPHwawc/s1600/SchoolLunch.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="347" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiJWiWq2fQTYO0Vs0AGZxRfyOQih7q4hTvYYM0kWt3K-vpgxE-4cjHWdMRuNlvWcFETi7INSxjdTNsL6NbeiHaL6ocZh0kMKjBjyjWzjL_xlPjSt6034L_NgpyxR2AmprZinHqhPHwawc/s400/SchoolLunch.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Nothing says autumn like a great bowl of beef vegetable soup! </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Yes, you guessed it, that is a peanut butter and jelly sandwich on the side. We love soups here at the cottage. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">What is your favorite fall fare?</span></div>
FireLighthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06807248509319526615noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4526387584381191607.post-37099818853779856682012-04-08T20:27:00.002-05:002012-04-08T20:46:59.543-05:00Past Loves<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXmZopmDriESzz6bXluOVywXXuEIQJwUZZjXHEkxvtBQoFlA2oGFPuVE6MUSXjGAuqWZpmd4IJw2vPEK8SNadsA2_Jm7AfcpmdfnppkNoFgzyYdga97p7ng3RjAYYnFFuscjl9LFI54O8/s400/Chelsea2.jpg" width="296" /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Chelsea 1987 - 95</div><div align="center">Every time I drive past the turn off to a little winding road off Highway 280 on my trips to Birmingham, my mind goes back to the time I drove to a warm country home and found this runt of the litter who stole into my heart...and never left. She was a darling, very small for an English Springer Spaniel, and a Walt Disney sort of pup. <br />
Thank you Cameron, for this portrait of our Chelsea Puddin' .</div>FireLighthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06807248509319526615noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4526387584381191607.post-84531879556614186242011-12-07T10:00:00.000-06:002011-12-07T09:59:25.030-06:00One Hundred Years Ago...<div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLOfm63oXLVqAWRPv0zw6C6eOG74MlnXN2JJUyTmKqD3SJPhj0FCNmTrNQgUI3U8EliW8_uBZHTjpRJLWcRrTnRWHA5HXB7D6IWsPTCWhuxezfRVUXQ1EMmAm1keYzUCnVnRqIXyoRj14/s1600-h/John+age3%231.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5427479021683564914" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLOfm63oXLVqAWRPv0zw6C6eOG74MlnXN2JJUyTmKqD3SJPhj0FCNmTrNQgUI3U8EliW8_uBZHTjpRJLWcRrTnRWHA5HXB7D6IWsPTCWhuxezfRVUXQ1EMmAm1keYzUCnVnRqIXyoRj14/s400/John+age3%231.jpg" style="cursor: hand; display: block; height: 400px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 234px;" /></a><br />
Born December 7, 1911 <br />
<br />
Today I am REPOSTING this feature in honor of my father John Patterson. <br />
The original title was December Boy. In the great scheme of days<br />
and hours...one hundred years suddenly seems not such a long time ago.<br />
My father was an in inventor and played several instruments and <br />
sculpted figurines from wood in his spare time. And like so mnay who offered <br />
so much light in the world...gone...way too soon.<br />
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This is my first offering for Alan's Sepia Saturday. Of all the old photos I have, this one is very dear to me. It makes me think of the photo that Willow found on one of her treasure hunts a few months ago. As I study it here on the big PC screen, I am suddenly aware that it may have been this very photo that gave me a love of baby dolls and baby boys! Don't you just want to scoop him up in your arms? Can't you just see him toddling downstairs on a wintry morning rubbing his sleepy eyes? Isn't he simply adorable? For as long as I can remember, the photo has been creased and scratched. A few years ago, I did have it very carefully retouched and cleaned up very nicely, but this is the real deal version. Here are the facts as I know them:</div><div align="center">This photo probably dates December 1913 or January 1914.</div><div align="center">The child is close two years old.</div><div align="center">He was a redhead.</div><div align="center">He was born December 7, 1911 near Birmingham, AL.</div><div align="center">He was the fifth of eight surviving siblings.</div><div align="center">His name was John.</div><div align="center">He died June 10, 1971.</div><div align="center"></div><div align="center">This is the only known baby picture of my father...NOT grandfather.</div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center">(Click on photo to enlarge.)</div>FireLighthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06807248509319526615noreply@blogger.com16tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4526387584381191607.post-76956080929834345762011-10-12T17:10:00.002-05:002011-10-12T17:20:35.231-05:00Oh, Mr. Livsey!!!<div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7hhyWaW383M2-anNzPl6EFk0ztVqCm_zMKcMcB_jsC795UBg_Pbo_iIaNLGhyphenhyphen8z69DXQTzfNqLdElRkcyKCfvoRlWCA137rX5P1KtkjWHJ83dODUN2eo-uY_0VEHKGyKdSE4LpxJlZJI/s1600/Livsey.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="244px" oda="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7hhyWaW383M2-anNzPl6EFk0ztVqCm_zMKcMcB_jsC795UBg_Pbo_iIaNLGhyphenhyphen8z69DXQTzfNqLdElRkcyKCfvoRlWCA137rX5P1KtkjWHJ83dODUN2eo-uY_0VEHKGyKdSE4LpxJlZJI/s320/Livsey.jpg" width="320px" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;">Well .....here HE is, and here we are getting off the train near Willow Manor. </div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;">The train journey took more time than imagined, but it was so much fun traveling with the oh so ...and ever English gentleman Roger Livsey! So on to the car....and I see our trunk has been strapped to the back and we will soon be there.....</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYT42hb-IN7H0vnRs0oe0BFctltWqlnQYj6gtyvIl4fu-Qg-6ZuxshhIo2PETZNyJNx4dmUWrF7nb1X-1fJ66enEBeUJNfrlWuLAC20c064unMCCjJ3M0PfdJG3tyeCYWbfM6n6YMVJFQ/s1600/76_Excalibur_Phantom_3_454_DV_05_Shdy_04.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212px" oda="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYT42hb-IN7H0vnRs0oe0BFctltWqlnQYj6gtyvIl4fu-Qg-6ZuxshhIo2PETZNyJNx4dmUWrF7nb1X-1fJ66enEBeUJNfrlWuLAC20c064unMCCjJ3M0PfdJG3tyeCYWbfM6n6YMVJFQ/s320/76_Excalibur_Phantom_3_454_DV_05_Shdy_04.jpg" width="320px" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Oh Heavens,,,,where is the chauffeur--- Nigel? Nigel, please hurry we need to get to the Manor house!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiN3WKATFNVDGNiQ77pwz_LEWIpFjSER9NrqW239y0ILRI3V2C8bM2ViupsDTXi1zTskKCDeWYsEV11UU8B_Dl6niHY1VGe69PsXwVc5ZK0RDtPqz9GJeyrMg2rAMsnqwOUvk8-yYs65c/s1600/estate_bg.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="246px" oda="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiN3WKATFNVDGNiQ77pwz_LEWIpFjSER9NrqW239y0ILRI3V2C8bM2ViupsDTXi1zTskKCDeWYsEV11UU8B_Dl6niHY1VGe69PsXwVc5ZK0RDtPqz9GJeyrMg2rAMsnqwOUvk8-yYs65c/s320/estate_bg.jpg" width="320px" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;">Of course this is gorgeous....right neighborhood, but not the right house....keep going...I know she is close to the river.......just over that rise.....keep going, Nigel!</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcRLJOnYi1bjqGVwE2HRppOTfyKbHnz84pYrHshkUdGUfGwHx87DaBWJbdUInQoNZBF939lKiZcm0SLpHgVIVkf178ve-iRN_Ghv_Ria5LCrM6rf8D_7hlvRNnHTZWrya83xvms40dglg/s1600/grasmere-70206s.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240px" oda="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcRLJOnYi1bjqGVwE2HRppOTfyKbHnz84pYrHshkUdGUfGwHx87DaBWJbdUInQoNZBF939lKiZcm0SLpHgVIVkf178ve-iRN_Ghv_Ria5LCrM6rf8D_7hlvRNnHTZWrya83xvms40dglg/s320/grasmere-70206s.jpg" width="320px" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;">Ooooh.....hhhhh .....Lord what a view....and oh my the road ends.... we must take to the footpaths!! </div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAgDFvIMM5KLKw_FsJAsrANPkp5pW_iffBIdJsGDIDN0uHZgJWVRtaFnxtrypC695przHHJYm9GTDLMh4Mp6gt0z4A7PI6r-qYwMOEAJDhAJc-hR8ZqpiPx2mOEaE8EoYetvvwHxxSbyY/s1600/Livsey5..jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="244px" oda="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAgDFvIMM5KLKw_FsJAsrANPkp5pW_iffBIdJsGDIDN0uHZgJWVRtaFnxtrypC695przHHJYm9GTDLMh4Mp6gt0z4A7PI6r-qYwMOEAJDhAJc-hR8ZqpiPx2mOEaE8EoYetvvwHxxSbyY/s320/Livsey5..jpg" width="320px" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Here is the river...so powerful and mysterious...just like Mr. Livsey.....<swoon></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">A short time to regroup...and encouraging words to one another....we decide to follow the river...</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtHzEm0VATyvZ284KNRitM3AkldRgfxVqveL1ZjhyphenhyphenmR0tyfRx7_kLTTsL7IGDuVZziUn-TltMymX6LVYono1SA00RVtr4VF9cEhUkAAgHgfgosrYH0SDX5i92c463MJJpg4Fx3n1SSP6o/s1600/Livsey2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="244px" oda="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtHzEm0VATyvZ284KNRitM3AkldRgfxVqveL1ZjhyphenhyphenmR0tyfRx7_kLTTsL7IGDuVZziUn-TltMymX6LVYono1SA00RVtr4VF9cEhUkAAgHgfgosrYH0SDX5i92c463MJJpg4Fx3n1SSP6o/s320/Livsey2.jpg" width="320px" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Maybe this is the right house.....</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6CuZMVZOBbB5roIwYdzvaiSV4TXYvtClq9iuZ0rjPYb_ItWkN0DzjkttGtNx3gMRFHZoeb7ChyLsca1HHUGwaSWbHthYCnZ47t8eI5bPc7kfNOW5VTH2thZ1J1ZVdzw46B33lFQupIHc/s1600/Livsey3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="244px" oda="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6CuZMVZOBbB5roIwYdzvaiSV4TXYvtClq9iuZ0rjPYb_ItWkN0DzjkttGtNx3gMRFHZoeb7ChyLsca1HHUGwaSWbHthYCnZ47t8eI5bPc7kfNOW5VTH2thZ1J1ZVdzw46B33lFQupIHc/s320/Livsey3.jpg" width="320px" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Or maybe it is this one....</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXpmgyEEwg-AQGUgOimFpQa9QJ-WbjeJAmg30ZlO9pQFb6R69Ga2ohR17HlLPTdUUp9Klt5t68ubVa2Dv3iUQa4Hko40AiqsPfqZhH_chzMg_9_-9sVG1yeK58ecEx18yDnfcbk8-qbCg/s1600/Livsey4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="244px" oda="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXpmgyEEwg-AQGUgOimFpQa9QJ-WbjeJAmg30ZlO9pQFb6R69Ga2ohR17HlLPTdUUp9Klt5t68ubVa2Dv3iUQa4Hko40AiqsPfqZhH_chzMg_9_-9sVG1yeK58ecEx18yDnfcbk8-qbCg/s320/Livsey4.jpg" width="320px" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Oh...I know this he right place....this is the barn where Mr. Ed stayed last year!!!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Oh for sure we can change here....I know Willow won't mind....Do you have your velvet coat and dress kilt, Roger, darling? I'll just take my gown from the trunk. Hurry the ballroom is waiting!!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Take your rest Nigel and thanks for carry our things!!</div>FireLighthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06807248509319526615noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4526387584381191607.post-67240347296546411092011-10-12T01:25:00.001-05:002011-10-12T01:37:54.644-05:00Off to the ball....<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiv_9072pd3XclhhqqjWH3FZoLE9M_-BIpSMCbzL4BHYzsUYOvxJVulMBTHPliDJTowMJiD-VzSSyvQotBZQR2FJ1-mkJyMtiobo7SnuCBxym-Dsy6OcbD4AeWIcTTcDbReGzPdy2gjTak/s1600/Willow+Manor+Ball+2011.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640px" kca="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiv_9072pd3XclhhqqjWH3FZoLE9M_-BIpSMCbzL4BHYzsUYOvxJVulMBTHPliDJTowMJiD-VzSSyvQotBZQR2FJ1-mkJyMtiobo7SnuCBxym-Dsy6OcbD4AeWIcTTcDbReGzPdy2gjTak/s640/Willow+Manor+Ball+2011.jpg" width="452px" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">It is that enchanted time of year, and after going through my mahogany wardrobe several times, I found this treasure. I picked it up in a London auction house back in June 2010. I did pay a ROYAL price. Someone said it was once owned by a certain princess. I think this portrait of my great grandmother must have inspired me...though I think my dress is .... well... it may be.....just a tad more interesting than hers. I'll be slipping into this after I have had time to freshen up from the train ride from Auburn to Dublin! I think we will be arriving in just a short time. There is a very special person in the compartment next to me. (And we know where we're going.) Be at the station if you want to get a peek at my oh so daaaaaarhling companion for this year's gala along the banks of the Scioto...under a full moon,,,,where the magic has a glow all its own. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Miss Willow is weaving another tapestry of music and dance and romance....don't be late, now!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Next Stop: Willow Manor Ball 2011<strike></strike></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgth5WhiZBYc0IG5_3_c9jtBIvFQOFkUFWCnuj0t03FgqOOAJsWwkDQ-sIihAUB0AFJ9pPdlIvZ4XhY9td6ujKeYItQw11rQ4nStl-FXhlmyiW_h7iyr5QqWRCqNhTdt7Idvz2oSBkiTkg/s1600/Mrs_John_J_ChapmanBlackBallGown.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" kca="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgth5WhiZBYc0IG5_3_c9jtBIvFQOFkUFWCnuj0t03FgqOOAJsWwkDQ-sIihAUB0AFJ9pPdlIvZ4XhY9td6ujKeYItQw11rQ4nStl-FXhlmyiW_h7iyr5QqWRCqNhTdt7Idvz2oSBkiTkg/s1600/Mrs_John_J_ChapmanBlackBallGown.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> Great Grandmother Rebecca Cameron ......I must say she looks ready for any ball!</div>FireLighthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06807248509319526615noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4526387584381191607.post-15780373220050211402011-09-08T14:00:00.002-05:002011-09-10T16:39:21.053-05:00For the Falling Man<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">"...falling faintly through the universe and faintly falling, </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">like the descent of their last end,</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">upon the living and the dead. "</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjEqvW4kLBB8z1Hpb0Oo1h6sURkMfz5dyfm6U2SQ_FAPZypQ7IhAPyF0nIV2tTBYKIYpQWwH_q4VIhlbQMnGa0f3bHnqU0CgfiDeZhggCRWFYdVNcM0PW14Y5uyzwfj7aTjUDYaUO6i_8/s1600/DSC_0121_121.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212px" nba="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjEqvW4kLBB8z1Hpb0Oo1h6sURkMfz5dyfm6U2SQ_FAPZypQ7IhAPyF0nIV2tTBYKIYpQWwH_q4VIhlbQMnGa0f3bHnqU0CgfiDeZhggCRWFYdVNcM0PW14Y5uyzwfj7aTjUDYaUO6i_8/s320/DSC_0121_121.jpg" width="320px" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSuJEQ1PIt2GZoNE3s_6UR4cOsxmKDjdDBh6ClA2whGHMuNC1bNqPD0tWCT2m9UdxV0ZBi9iMWCkVPTuyDgrz7ZYuJ339RrJTwU2VXoLyRCr6iiKufFEgI9zNMO-mYEN_JjACYoYx-KTU/s1600/DSC_0122_122.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212px" nba="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSuJEQ1PIt2GZoNE3s_6UR4cOsxmKDjdDBh6ClA2whGHMuNC1bNqPD0tWCT2m9UdxV0ZBi9iMWCkVPTuyDgrz7ZYuJ339RrJTwU2VXoLyRCr6iiKufFEgI9zNMO-mYEN_JjACYoYx-KTU/s320/DSC_0122_122.jpg" width="320px" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span id="goog_944321509">Today, I was asked by my principal to review a poem that a young man at our school had composed as a remembrance of 9/11 to be read over our public address system here at school on Friday morning. I had never actually met this student until this afternoon. He explained that he was in the first grade in September of 2001, and just felt he had to write a poem in honor of the day. He also told me that the story of Flight 93 had really left a deep impression on him when he saw it at age 13. He is now a junior. We talked about the bravery of so many people who were forced to make decisions on that day. I told him that I personally remember feeling that New York City was really very close when I knew in reality that it would take me over 18 hours to drive there. Each morning I came to school in those days after, I wanted to just go there--not really knowing what I could possibly do to help anyone--but the sense of wanting to let so many there know that I was trying in my own way to help with the leaden weight they must bear was quite overwhelming. I confirmed that even now, he just knew he must do this probably for the same reasons. It is because we know we are all "falling through the universe" like so many snowflakes in James Joyce's lines from his story "The Dead." And because I knew he would appreciate another poet, I shared with the young man Annie Farnsworth's poignant tribute to a man who appeared on the front page of major newspapers* and who is buried in our collective consciousness as we mourn and revere that day in September.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><em><strong>For the Falling Man </strong></em></div><br />
<br />
I see you again and again<br />
<br />
tumbling out of the sky,<br />
<br />
in your slate-grey suit and pressed white shirt.<br />
<br />
At first I thought you were debris<br />
<br />
from the explosion, maybe gray plaster wall<br />
<br />
or fuselage but then I realized <br />
<br />
that people were leaping.<br />
<br />
I know who you are, I know <br />
<br />
there's more to you than just this image<br />
<br />
on the news, this ragdoll plummeting—<br />
<br />
I know you were someone's lover, husband, <br />
<br />
daddy. Last night you read stories<br />
<br />
to your children, tucked them in, then curled into sleep<br />
<br />
next to your wife. Perhaps there was small<br />
<br />
sleepy talk of the future. Then,<br />
<br />
before your morning coffee had cooled<br />
<br />
you'd come to this; a choice between fire <br />
<br />
or falling.<br />
<br />
How feeble these words, billowing<br />
<br />
in this aftermath, how ineffectual<br />
<br />
this utterance of sorrow. We can see plainly <br />
<br />
it's hopeless, even as the words trail from our mouths<br />
<br />
—but we can't help ourselves—how I wish<br />
<br />
we could trade them for something<br />
<br />
that could really have caught you.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">*Click on the title of this post to read a recent article on the photograph of The Falling Man.</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">My photos (click to enlarge) were taken by the Colonel in the churchyard of</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"> Holy Trinity at Stratford-Upon-Avon, June 2006.</div></div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"></div>FireLighthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06807248509319526615noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4526387584381191607.post-60111700869256103892011-07-12T11:30:00.004-05:002013-10-18T15:27:59.758-05:00It’s the Good Old Summer Time!<span xmlns=""></span> <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvM6ZIUNeVM6R9ENfICX5d7EJy1Oi-ZQGm6-zcmMby05uwzYlmwPZx_0LiM3EFFNr3aCvyUngDRioj1SB0Bptz1QRVP0IZvjmf7qdINVFuqxn6vv6V0LLIxnJe_KiYDtTzAbXbz9yYZj4/s1600/CreekI.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="264" m="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvM6ZIUNeVM6R9ENfICX5d7EJy1Oi-ZQGm6-zcmMby05uwzYlmwPZx_0LiM3EFFNr3aCvyUngDRioj1SB0Bptz1QRVP0IZvjmf7qdINVFuqxn6vv6V0LLIxnJe_KiYDtTzAbXbz9yYZj4/s400/CreekI.jpg" true="" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: #1b4b38; font-family: Penshurst; font-size: 16pt;"> <span style="color: black;">It's the Good Old Summer Time!</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: Penshurst; font-size: 16pt;">What have you been doing to keep cool? I have been remembering the days before air conditioning and ice makers. Sue ( on the left) and I filled up the ice trays, enjoyed long slices of watermelon, and when all else failed, we went to the creek. Please come and enjoy a salad supper, iced tea, some good old fashioned summer memories, and the best gossip in town! Oh, yes, if you bring your swimsuit, I'll turn on the sprinkler!</span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: Penshurst; font-size: 16pt;">July 29, 2011 </span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: Penshurst; font-size: 16pt;">6:30 PM Central Lightning Bug Time</span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: Penshurst; font-size: 16pt;">Graystone Cottage </span></div>
<span style="color: black;"></span><br />
<span style="color: black;"></span><br />
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<span style="color: black; font-family: Penshurst;">~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~</span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: Penshurst; font-size: 16pt;"> This is my latest invitation for my Women's Night Out group. I have used an old photo taken by my brother. This creek is near my childhood home. It was quite a trek to creep down the walls of the deep ravine to Lost Creek, but the cool air and sounds of the running water and the chorus of bird song are a permanent and glorious page in my book of memories. </span></div>
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(Click on photo to enlarge.)</div>
FireLighthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06807248509319526615noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4526387584381191607.post-4105270862583288492011-06-21T08:20:00.008-05:002011-06-23T16:55:05.120-05:00Boleslawiec Tea Party<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGut6XvHFWgjfhozb0u3URafsj9-6agga7b-r4OFUzeb9690pCC_3yiD9nx5wdFhn47oazZ6BLHjfzCqi3lpdhWXM-qbIrbTBJmOCbYeWgg40IwX1w_uWW9iJA3_bskaq4N3SKTrICEB8/s1600/Seaside+%2526+Home+084.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="cssfloat: left; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266px" i$="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGut6XvHFWgjfhozb0u3URafsj9-6agga7b-r4OFUzeb9690pCC_3yiD9nx5wdFhn47oazZ6BLHjfzCqi3lpdhWXM-qbIrbTBJmOCbYeWgg40IwX1w_uWW9iJA3_bskaq4N3SKTrICEB8/s400/Seaside+%2526+Home+084.JPG" width="400px" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjU4ICtVXWL5W8Lqf_jcJdhfpn8mYbXNz-vKzTjL2piw77o6BtqyuA2bQjqJLj1avq6jH-SlHn9t_bDKf_XtNb6M21bPNo2kOiRs1nKpSMIe39si2rrWuX_V1v6fLbslthm6T6ZqlhX0to/s1600/Seaside+%2526+Home+086.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="cssfloat: left; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266px" i$="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjU4ICtVXWL5W8Lqf_jcJdhfpn8mYbXNz-vKzTjL2piw77o6BtqyuA2bQjqJLj1avq6jH-SlHn9t_bDKf_XtNb6M21bPNo2kOiRs1nKpSMIe39si2rrWuX_V1v6fLbslthm6T6ZqlhX0to/s400/Seaside+%2526+Home+086.JPG" width="400px" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">(Click on photos to enlarge or to "embiggen" as Country Girl says!)</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">After being hauled around in the Colonel's carry on luggage through several airport layovers, these little Polish beauties are safely on my table. I have admired <a href="http://willowmanor.blogspot.com/"><strong><span style="color: #0b5394;">Willow's</span></strong></a> Boleslawiec mug often featured in her sidebar. And more than once, I have passed up one of the mugs at T. J. Max. I do struggle with my I-Need-New-China habit. I recently visited a unique gallery, <a href="http://catsmeowpolishpottery.com/index.php"><strong><span style="color: #0b5394;">The Cat's Meow</span></strong></a>, in Pine Mountain, Georgia which offers very handsome prints, framing, and a huge collection of Boleslawiec pottery! I oohed and aahed for a long time, but I was strong, and left empty handed. Shopping for a gift in Ramstein, Germany, my dear husband came upon a similar stunning display and confessed it was hard to make a decision. The Colonel knows me well. "Hmmm, blue and white, teapot: dishes!" Trifecta! Yes, this lovely set is a big hit at Graystone Cottage this morning! Cuppa tea?</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">(Click on blog title to visit the official website for the pottery.)</div>FireLighthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06807248509319526615noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4526387584381191607.post-24841540101473809102011-06-16T15:55:00.005-05:002013-10-18T15:00:04.912-05:00My Father<div align="center">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgO6tJWuHR7EAOQK5L2rEnrtcDORRviKUHHD5za_a24ucbwyD4PLb0I1tRERN4wq27iIQUZdtCqr4VvTvoILEaqCuKVEMlFbCKNU91qpY5s2wL02PfhrDZA5_wkimaEA-yy0Eqa__GeZN4/s1600/CaptJohnPattersonPortrait.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgO6tJWuHR7EAOQK5L2rEnrtcDORRviKUHHD5za_a24ucbwyD4PLb0I1tRERN4wq27iIQUZdtCqr4VvTvoILEaqCuKVEMlFbCKNU91qpY5s2wL02PfhrDZA5_wkimaEA-yy0Eqa__GeZN4/s320/CaptJohnPattersonPortrait.jpg" width="221" /></a></div>
John Patterson</div>
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He did not go gentle...</div>
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My father has been dead for forty years as of this month. For the last ten years of his life, he suffered from cancer, likely caused from radiation poisoning that he experienced while doing <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">post</span> WWII research at the Pentagon in 1951. I was eleven when he had his first surgery and ironically, radiation treatments. All during my early teens and, as I was becoming an adult, he was dying -- and quietly raging. He never complained or said anything about his suffering to me. He stayed busy, kept his sense of humor, and took in as much of life as he could. He was a wonderful dad. I was twenty when the "dying of the light" claimed him. Click on the the image above to hear Dylan <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Thomas read his</span> famous <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">villanelle</span>. I never teach or read the poem without thinking of my father.<br />
<br />
NOTE: The link was taken down from YouTube. Sorry if you missed it. 10/18/13 MPL</div>
FireLighthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06807248509319526615noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4526387584381191607.post-15353035902919881452011-06-06T01:00:00.007-05:002011-06-06T21:29:43.830-05:00"Who hath desired the sea? -- the sight of salt water unbounded..." Kipling<div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeEwO_ZDyYwlE3tMov7xY6cJmMdAqa-0mQcx5O3BrNeF9HnNfr5-0SZ6WGYSGAhQCCjAPh-XHI0Sqqo1K8pTrDzQ9XBA11Y3M5LIZgsgV0ZpcNr4PE69Jq84ZXiGr34Rb3wVw6Ob8607Y/s1600/Beach+%2526+Dennis+001.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 268px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5614975409552633010" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeEwO_ZDyYwlE3tMov7xY6cJmMdAqa-0mQcx5O3BrNeF9HnNfr5-0SZ6WGYSGAhQCCjAPh-XHI0Sqqo1K8pTrDzQ9XBA11Y3M5LIZgsgV0ZpcNr4PE69Jq84ZXiGr34Rb3wVw6Ob8607Y/s400/Beach+%2526+Dennis+001.JPG" /></a>We had been at our favorite Gulf Coast haunt since Monday, and I had yet to pick up the camera. Just before 7:00 on Friday evening, I stepped out of my second story bedroom at Greenpeace cottage to snap a few pictures. I wanted a closeup of the oleander.<br /></div><br /><br /><div align="center">The lense fogged over, but I liked the effect.<br /><br /><br /><br /><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqTCRNmhD5J-SX9A5xK1Dq0oUn9_-zPfjbcg99wYwein2d2clmW0fXRnPNoPbvTnvyfBWi7f4j6DYoyZeiLIasm9g9w641QpGWREW2d2J7L1DYgWbDqliAvowql-UStl-uZbH-a3VnPew/s1600/Beach+%2526+Dennis+002.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 268px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5614974975857277410" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqTCRNmhD5J-SX9A5xK1Dq0oUn9_-zPfjbcg99wYwein2d2clmW0fXRnPNoPbvTnvyfBWi7f4j6DYoyZeiLIasm9g9w641QpGWREW2d2J7L1DYgWbDqliAvowql-UStl-uZbH-a3VnPew/s400/Beach+%2526+Dennis+002.JPG" /></a>Here are the same blossoms against our neighboring cottage once the lense was cleared.<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihcV1LuwqUrf4i0kJ6DMqkAiTKeVt6EJ_WBgx_GMPSPhv4dqfeYSz77fqXtQaTyex5bYjwef95FfwMbp1OfqmZAfb3oNBfbqQiUkd7Sry9mUv6DF3ydwU-9cmxIyWSdQlqv-inqMFWg9g/s1600/Beach+%2526+Dennis+004.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 268px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5614974543018983922" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihcV1LuwqUrf4i0kJ6DMqkAiTKeVt6EJ_WBgx_GMPSPhv4dqfeYSz77fqXtQaTyex5bYjwef95FfwMbp1OfqmZAfb3oNBfbqQiUkd7Sry9mUv6DF3ydwU-9cmxIyWSdQlqv-inqMFWg9g/s400/Beach+%2526+Dennis+004.JPG" /></a>...and its second story porch.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg99WBUQJ1r9L-ZPUsLLVhz747skIy6wlr3K-WBK0g100Km_EjQ38VtQMP6NSq8D2QmzzNgeJ3wUpu1rx-3MyvPR_ds29UNmf80ppIh5scwJ-qdCLNCXC4IALEToritUxBjIcL3sqLIXic/s1600/Beach+%2526+Dennis+003.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 268px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5614974025546983970" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg99WBUQJ1r9L-ZPUsLLVhz747skIy6wlr3K-WBK0g100Km_EjQ38VtQMP6NSq8D2QmzzNgeJ3wUpu1rx-3MyvPR_ds29UNmf80ppIh5scwJ-qdCLNCXC4IALEToritUxBjIcL3sqLIXic/s400/Beach+%2526+Dennis+003.JPG" /></a>More cottages across the road...<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5zT5_9sTqIvr7p5f0FpYQK_VWpZLKZc7giczgkcV4U-kEJW6Dk787SiL1jZQidHAm0zPJrf7KxVDvOWIrui40h_I1Kz0NUgeflfL9YYn7OiGWehJ1SkniDU9-OMVPbshIgf8iI_QYnVQ/s1600/Beach+%2526+Dennis+006.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 268px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5614973505587291682" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5zT5_9sTqIvr7p5f0FpYQK_VWpZLKZc7giczgkcV4U-kEJW6Dk787SiL1jZQidHAm0zPJrf7KxVDvOWIrui40h_I1Kz0NUgeflfL9YYn7OiGWehJ1SkniDU9-OMVPbshIgf8iI_QYnVQ/s400/Beach+%2526+Dennis+006.JPG" /></a>Then I set off for the beach: out the front door, turn right, pass one cottage, step across Highway 30-A, a two-lane where all traffic stops for the beach bound pedestrians.<br />And as the sign says, just a few feet away...<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgV1D6RkKuo6XO6ksGilosucj2SyYh5CIDTBvO2xLKyTlr5POo_HpCVixGDsln84j6h41ToFCQCaL5247XMg_MQu52-cVDIiWzvGdhcxc4ReQWsdwuOEZQnxKyANmifC3U4Oivhd2WWspI/s1600/Beach+%2526+Dennis+009.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 268px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5614973083513441506" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgV1D6RkKuo6XO6ksGilosucj2SyYh5CIDTBvO2xLKyTlr5POo_HpCVixGDsln84j6h41ToFCQCaL5247XMg_MQu52-cVDIiWzvGdhcxc4ReQWsdwuOEZQnxKyANmifC3U4Oivhd2WWspI/s400/Beach+%2526+Dennis+009.JPG" /></a>The West Ruskin Pavilion where I stood to take the photo on the header.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGdZ7VrcitgBJxt_fiB-QzNY8gsxao_MQMMal1mIjfKD4iTkrjbHRaz8kbY_YlhxLhFsY8_RJktRZVEoIVKbJr8Lm4dxs4VQpHjSWN_6WEIDO4jxpn-EUjYzd3CxPQPeOLGKlFuAjmEMk/s1600/Beach+%2526+Dennis+007.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 268px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5614972505539422306" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGdZ7VrcitgBJxt_fiB-QzNY8gsxao_MQMMal1mIjfKD4iTkrjbHRaz8kbY_YlhxLhFsY8_RJktRZVEoIVKbJr8Lm4dxs4VQpHjSWN_6WEIDO4jxpn-EUjYzd3CxPQPeOLGKlFuAjmEMk/s400/Beach+%2526+Dennis+007.JPG" /></a>Beauty to the left of me...<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiZh1hAdlI5GtxyQ57O7Ncnbydvs_aZiZyMraL3V7U06fdK0XY-i6dXEbvoVeQ3uwPGse_yH9OOFpMnPjbhLSXL4UYtJUblcDswHAsrtW3hmA1AfhMKvBaFhjy7iWVJJ92ysfOORpKILU/s1600/Beach+%2526+Dennis+013.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 268px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5614972029390316498" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiZh1hAdlI5GtxyQ57O7Ncnbydvs_aZiZyMraL3V7U06fdK0XY-i6dXEbvoVeQ3uwPGse_yH9OOFpMnPjbhLSXL4UYtJUblcDswHAsrtW3hmA1AfhMKvBaFhjy7iWVJJ92ysfOORpKILU/s400/Beach+%2526+Dennis+013.JPG" /></a>..and once on the pavilion...beauty to the right of me...<br />slightly marred with a yellow caution flag ...<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtJkV6p1dE71CoWzvXqQWU0Eb_6_jiX2tIYyTUSczx18amJwEAhTP807GkSIgZ21A3iU-FqS0PLanLlmZXscoAd6spUYE1Hzoa9A_I9PmTBRQVAEKBWwgfZJfnq9MCHasL9lcponGWKWA/s1600/Beach+%2526+Dennis+014.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 268px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5614971142339093570" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtJkV6p1dE71CoWzvXqQWU0Eb_6_jiX2tIYyTUSczx18amJwEAhTP807GkSIgZ21A3iU-FqS0PLanLlmZXscoAd6spUYE1Hzoa9A_I9PmTBRQVAEKBWwgfZJfnq9MCHasL9lcponGWKWA/s400/Beach+%2526+Dennis+014.JPG" /></a>and the last of the day's beach combers paddle around under a crescent of clouds...<br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPZYqoYRp6zkbTLhXEXPu5nzDaLZGv9hcDTxQdw-guTPmscTMeppW0lljuUwDSHOEjeptYvDnwPsYWmGXTlgve5_lB6BHm3pR3FcmgpOm3hAv8DL4SJD1DbS37g3nA9xNvYR9czJ2zn3w/s1600/Beach+%2526+Dennis+022.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 268px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5614970298120370578" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPZYqoYRp6zkbTLhXEXPu5nzDaLZGv9hcDTxQdw-guTPmscTMeppW0lljuUwDSHOEjeptYvDnwPsYWmGXTlgve5_lB6BHm3pR3FcmgpOm3hAv8DL4SJD1DbS37g3nA9xNvYR9czJ2zn3w/s400/Beach+%2526+Dennis+022.JPG" /></a>...turn around, stroll back to our cottage...<br /><br /><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgU68qvVE_8KGMS5Go2etb4U5PCSHsIcxAZ2xkmcHpRfkPZZNHPLIalAQeUBvsoYvdHS7PZND6KodGsVrIZdr1jI5tUe_fhJoS6ESo6dnjgpEtjswON0m0ZRt5EilqgFBYIpxC-WZRmcXg/s1600/Beach+%2526+Dennis+021.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 268px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5614969764585457922" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgU68qvVE_8KGMS5Go2etb4U5PCSHsIcxAZ2xkmcHpRfkPZZNHPLIalAQeUBvsoYvdHS7PZND6KodGsVrIZdr1jI5tUe_fhJoS6ESo6dnjgpEtjswON0m0ZRt5EilqgFBYIpxC-WZRmcXg/s400/Beach+%2526+Dennis+021.JPG" /></a>...and to the peacefully suspended --slowed motion of Seaside. </div><br /><br /><br /><div>(Click on any photo to enlarge; then click again for an even larger image)</div><br /></div></div>FireLighthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06807248509319526615noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4526387584381191607.post-76431083315467813602011-05-21T11:15:00.011-05:002011-06-05T23:00:33.810-05:00The Bustle in the House...<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6Q74zVvvFvGZ4Ckx5ec2-7QCN7DHKTLMhmACu4LpAw7yP5XIyb2J1UK5zifZsEjKtXB9h9x1Afy0zAOtKoSVHsBenpGaOeJu3rgm9YD0PBVLMFn7LEjNoxW1UyU9yJTlPwD3b8w_OfVQ/s1600/GracieVingette.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 294px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5614951356941181842" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6Q74zVvvFvGZ4Ckx5ec2-7QCN7DHKTLMhmACu4LpAw7yP5XIyb2J1UK5zifZsEjKtXB9h9x1Afy0zAOtKoSVHsBenpGaOeJu3rgm9YD0PBVLMFn7LEjNoxW1UyU9yJTlPwD3b8w_OfVQ/s400/GracieVingette.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><div align="left"><strong>The Bustle in a House</strong></div><br /><div align="left"><strong>The Morning after Death</strong><br /></div><br /><div align="left"><strong>Is solemnest of industries</strong><br /></div><br /><div align="left"><strong>Enacted upon Earth—</strong></div><br /><div align="left"><strong>The Sweeping up the Heart</strong></div><br /><div align="left"><strong>And putting Love away</strong></div><br /><div align="left"><strong>We shall not want to use again</strong></div><br /><div align="left"><strong>Until Eternity.</strong><br /></div><br />Emily Dickinson<br /><br /><br /><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhwZ6LUBRzTez8uM5yLBBrnpX-y1nRWvlU2NxQFqIgnzWZ8qu-5QRslyc4tmgFh4vN0ZAwZsmiSC2DQA1-7z6MXbXIh3JKPxx5YvCpAOEqg1yn7cOWIg4fG9pJP0-4gLscLo4mJT3_pgM/s1600/Scan_Pic0004.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 290px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5609193742391915506" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhwZ6LUBRzTez8uM5yLBBrnpX-y1nRWvlU2NxQFqIgnzWZ8qu-5QRslyc4tmgFh4vN0ZAwZsmiSC2DQA1-7z6MXbXIh3JKPxx5YvCpAOEqg1yn7cOWIg4fG9pJP0-4gLscLo4mJT3_pgM/s400/Scan_Pic0004.jpg" /></a> The face that said, "Will I ever feel better?"<br />The Colonel made these photos late Wednesday afternoon. He took numerous frames, and in the header above is his masterpiece. For a moment, the sunlight and cool air and time with dad, masked all the weakness and pain.</div><br /><br /><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdOO-Dt_rKVmZHJGjB1SDjMANXwkwX04I0Y0Qd5l0pBLKRM9nJTnxigkwpiAJ39-2W0fQ7PUeJGPlCfZNQXSR46vQon4R2J07eolkSY7juTEGxRg9hCKLOGNR6dJ0VCL_Pjfs6W3VEMW8/s1600/Gracie5182011.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 278px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5609193494606966978" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdOO-Dt_rKVmZHJGjB1SDjMANXwkwX04I0Y0Qd5l0pBLKRM9nJTnxigkwpiAJ39-2W0fQ7PUeJGPlCfZNQXSR46vQon4R2J07eolkSY7juTEGxRg9hCKLOGNR6dJ0VCL_Pjfs6W3VEMW8/s400/Gracie5182011.jpg" /></a> Underneath that beautiful coat were frail bones and shortness of breath as the ALL<br />(acute <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error">lymphoblastic</span> leukemia) rapidly took its toll.<br />It was only last week, May 12<span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error">th</span>, that she was diagnosed.<br /><br />Wednesday evening, we took Gracie to her vet, and had her put to sleep. Thursday morning, the Colonel and I went downstairs only to fall into the deep hole left behind where she had filled our hearts with her morning greetings in the kitchen. We survived that first morning only to return from work in the evening to the lead reality that she would never again be there with face smiling, tail wagging, and big paw patting us on the leg. It has been sad in this house. It is the price one pays for loving a pet so very much. However, in comparison to all that she gave to us in love, laughter, and joy, the grief is a small price indeed.<br /><br />As the school year marched on, I had promised myself that I would get in at least one post per month. When I posted about Gracie's tenth birthday last month, I had no idea she was the least bit ill. Every day we can claim health, love, and life is a gift. </div>FireLighthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06807248509319526615noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4526387584381191607.post-34475675840498273692011-04-20T15:30:00.020-05:002011-04-20T18:23:00.338-05:00Who Rescued Whom?<div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhB_e2FPgpSisXdCLLXRyV2zMEyE0TworzOAk6o50SaWPIE3VkoXZmvTT49mFZEGQburUDXCm7b4omqRKj59vQhG8QjONy5x5aDwxtWINFO9InyumjMRbnpg1j5Eg8ImLtD2voufZwXDVo/s1600/Gracie+2.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 347px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5597749953104256594" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhB_e2FPgpSisXdCLLXRyV2zMEyE0TworzOAk6o50SaWPIE3VkoXZmvTT49mFZEGQburUDXCm7b4omqRKj59vQhG8QjONy5x5aDwxtWINFO9InyumjMRbnpg1j5Eg8ImLtD2voufZwXDVo/s400/Gracie+2.jpg" /></a>Gracie at age 2 (click on photos to enlarge)</div><br /><br /><div align="center"></div><br /><br /><div align="center">Our big dog Gracie just turned ten years old on Monday. According to <a href="http://www.berner.org/"><span style="color:#cc9933;">berner.org</span> </a>(click link to learn all about the breed), the average life expectancy for a Bernese Mountain Dog is 6 to 7 years. Cancer is a big problem for the breed, and this one has had a close call. As of today she is well. She is now in the age range I once read about when researching the breed back in the early 90's: Life <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">expectancy</span> was then 10 to 12 years! The Swiss say, "Three years a young dog, three years a good dog, and three years an old dog." I have to say Gracie seems to be right in the middle of being a GOOD dog. She likes to give a literal good morning hug, but no longer does whirling leaps in the air and barks as her morning greeting. That was in her wilder days. She loves to have her ears rubbed, and to have her coat either vacuumed with the Kirby or fluffed with the leaf blower.....that is really funny to see! She prefers to drink from running water--from a pitcher being poured into her bowl or from an outdoor faucet or garden hose.<br /><br /></div><br /><br /><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtp9bEYOG6T94KAbOt0zFfcWJyHCxHoY2OtnJFGykJkWsTKA5_d8xPyRr5LMsD3uFNG-pKGfzFbiUeJKqklnf3FGaWTWhwVQOIi3BxQGRG1zyi9VbLkE3dtQnX7hLBgBj39LA9iT4J78E/s1600/GracieJuly2009.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 363px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5597749845947326642" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtp9bEYOG6T94KAbOt0zFfcWJyHCxHoY2OtnJFGykJkWsTKA5_d8xPyRr5LMsD3uFNG-pKGfzFbiUeJKqklnf3FGaWTWhwVQOIi3BxQGRG1zyi9VbLkE3dtQnX7hLBgBj39LA9iT4J78E/s400/GracieJuly2009.jpg" /></a></div><br /><br /><br /><div align="center">We found Gracie in December of 2002. Our male <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error">Berner</span>, Fritz, had died <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">earlier</span> that year in June at age 9. The house was just not the same without him, and Christmas was coming. I saw an ad in the Atlanta Journal for an 18 month old female in Tiger, Georgia. She needed a home because her owner had sustained a serious back injury. When I first mentioned it, no one at home was interested, but you know what they say about the magic of Christmas. On Saturday morning, December 14<span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error">th</span>, the Colonel said to me over breakfast, "If you really want to go see this dog, I will go with you." Honestly, that <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">statement</span> was <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-error">all I wanted</span> for Christmas. We made our way to the Northeast Georgia mountains, found the farm, and there she was in the <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">miniature</span> stables with <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_8" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">miniature</span> horses! It was too charming for anyone to resist! Giving her up was as sad for the owner as it was joyous for us! We were all weeping when is was time to load her up and head back home. Her father was a major show dog, but Gracie has lived a quiet, happy life , along with her spaniel sisters and the one and only Deusey the Cat. I know she would say her life is good in<br /><br />"Sweet Auburn, <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_9" class="blsp-spelling-error">loveliest</span> village of the plain.</div><br /><br /><div align="center">Where health and plenty cheer'd the labouring swain" </div><br /><br /><br /><div align="center">~~~~~Oliver Goldsmith "The Deserted Village"<br /><br /></div><br /><br /><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEjir4i31wwnk94DflQQrVXUGtTi13sZR7B7ABLUTSjgb9FelVphxCnKKeOWyg04R_FeCnJ17qM61Kl5kQcBqj5VwNtGddL4OJW2BLM2jHxpI4Fcg_hlyxARLASqk4nfLlrcrE0x0J8ZM/s1600/DSC00781.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 266px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5597749640750921858" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEjir4i31wwnk94DflQQrVXUGtTi13sZR7B7ABLUTSjgb9FelVphxCnKKeOWyg04R_FeCnJ17qM61Kl5kQcBqj5VwNtGddL4OJW2BLM2jHxpI4Fcg_hlyxARLASqk4nfLlrcrE0x0J8ZM/s400/DSC00781.JPG" /></a><br />Gracie at age 4<br /><br />It was about this time that I began reading and hearing about more and more <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_10" class="blsp-spelling-error">Berners</span> serving as therapy dogs. This is a favorite photo <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_11" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">taken</span> by my niece Nancy. This is classic Gracie the Therapy Dog behavior: Her paw resting comfortingly on your knee and a look that says, "You just go ahead and pet me as much as you need to and tell me all your troubles.<br />I am listening."<br /><br /><br /><strong><span style="font-size:180%;">HAPPY BIRTHDAY, DEAR GRACIE!</span></strong> </div>FireLighthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06807248509319526615noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4526387584381191607.post-64882840153099709602011-04-11T21:00:00.008-05:002011-12-27T11:06:17.961-06:00A horse, a horse...a War Horse...<div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikd8Zq-1INyp4e57t1ULQRlj-lZ6XnKgffJi7Mv4k9JIGe7H2cgi4j7OU9MQr6d4VmUujduu-WDT-eqZNgtPoqxh8CJdjef1Pkr-lDLEwv0eHzIBxDP9t1mFv92lQ2_nduseaD3RLZKLg/s1600/war_horse_michael_morpurgo_book_cover.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5594494008765178098" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikd8Zq-1INyp4e57t1ULQRlj-lZ6XnKgffJi7Mv4k9JIGe7H2cgi4j7OU9MQr6d4VmUujduu-WDT-eqZNgtPoqxh8CJdjef1Pkr-lDLEwv0eHzIBxDP9t1mFv92lQ2_nduseaD3RLZKLg/s400/war_horse_michael_morpurgo_book_cover.jpg" style="cursor: hand; display: block; height: 400px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 281px;" /></a> Once upon a time --for about nineteen years-- I taught seventh grade. One of my fondest memories was being witness to the eagerness my students exuded when given a chance to buy their very own Scholastic paperbacks. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Scholastic</span> always had great offerings. I would get a stack of small newsprint brochures, and the kids would place their orders. They ordered new stories and classics. In recent years, I have been teaching mostly seniors. These students do not order paperbacks. They read and write texts -- seemingly re-inventing Sanskrit! We just read the standards. And oh, the torture they endure! Yes, there are those who read outside of class, but I am sometimes afraid to ask just what they are reading. Oh for the days when my students wanted books and not cell phones! </div><br />
<div align="center"></div><br />
<div align="center">I have been hearing from some of my <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">colleagues</span> who are still working with seventh graders about <a href="http://www.fantasybookreview.co.uk/Michael-Morpurgo/biography.html"><span style="color: #990000;"><strong>Michael <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Morpurgo's</span></strong></span> </a><strong><em>WAR HORSE,</em></strong> yes, published by Scholastic. Here is a story of a horse which may alter everything you ever thought you knew about horses. It was written for an adolescent audience, but it is galloping on its way to the classics shelf! You may have seen the feature broadcast yesterday on <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">CBS's</span> Sunday Morning all about the stage play based on <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">Morpurgo's</span> book. Click <a href="http://www.cbsnews.com/video/watch/?id=7362314n&tag=contentMain;contentBody"><span style="color: #990000;"><strong>here</strong></span> </a>to see how <em><strong>War</strong></em> <strong><em>Horse</em></strong> has been <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">transformed</span> for the stage. This play is my number one destination if I can get to London this summer. </div><br />
<div align="center"></div><br />
<div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPESc57jrb8E2dLdTTkS7Vk2tOYUqPwS3Lig8D4Wb4wAIMkARp8COe-o_Ynn1oJ_v2Wmpxz5J2czxBe0lqU9QQM-XtyTCK5LgC3OiVUtzL2Kn9GtigT0NZGkcb8AOCF61f9MAbv9VVYkQ/s1600/War+Horse.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5594493732301375282" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPESc57jrb8E2dLdTTkS7Vk2tOYUqPwS3Lig8D4Wb4wAIMkARp8COe-o_Ynn1oJ_v2Wmpxz5J2czxBe0lqU9QQM-XtyTCK5LgC3OiVUtzL2Kn9GtigT0NZGkcb8AOCF61f9MAbv9VVYkQ/s400/War+Horse.jpg" style="cursor: hand; display: block; height: 287px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 350px;" /></a> While reading up on the production in London, I discovered more news. Not to be out done by the stage or the genius of the life size and truly realistic puppetry of the play, Steven Spielberg has the movie in the making, and we may see it as early as September 2011! </div><br />
<div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgKjFGYf7ErIG19xo90BpvkiVt46s1zdBC_c7FhUUj4ZDSKZIe17eDNVDKm5q6No_6r87YZZj4FOso1rKhyIWSBEKeSd7IGG88LD8YQz2A9iCgCbuTHDL1GVPg_Jcw9OBpyjX5U1oK1_s/s1600/GoodByeOldMan.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5594489863980869106" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgKjFGYf7ErIG19xo90BpvkiVt46s1zdBC_c7FhUUj4ZDSKZIe17eDNVDKm5q6No_6r87YZZj4FOso1rKhyIWSBEKeSd7IGG88LD8YQz2A9iCgCbuTHDL1GVPg_Jcw9OBpyjX5U1oK1_s/s400/GoodByeOldMan.jpg" style="cursor: hand; display: block; height: 400px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 262px;" /></a>The Colonel and I have a small collection of original World War I posters. I first saw this one in a catalog we have. Though <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">Fortunino</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">Matania's</span> (1881-1963) <strong><em>Good-bye Old Man</em></strong> is my all time favorite, I have only been able to find a reproduction of it. I know it was published first in the magazine <strong><em>Sphere</em></strong>, and also in several books of the artist's work. I have been looking for an original poster since 1979. I had better find a poster for the play and movie <strong><em>WAR HORSE</em></strong>. </div>FireLighthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06807248509319526615noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4526387584381191607.post-35919670935503666162011-03-13T20:40:00.002-05:002011-03-13T20:50:04.277-05:00'Tis the Season to be Irish!<div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjI_L8bskecKlH0Q_gUBYclXhP8tBmm96bXhmBiL9dXfGYkz0EjXEvVlUVeCdYd0O-HonoCsaL_KJH0BhV2kQjHW0oKd6K698AuQwNqwj-6mi2ZR-2OSysMB-80eIPHfgAndtgfx485Dn0/s1600/2-13-2011+070.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 266px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5583739082597631266" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjI_L8bskecKlH0Q_gUBYclXhP8tBmm96bXhmBiL9dXfGYkz0EjXEvVlUVeCdYd0O-HonoCsaL_KJH0BhV2kQjHW0oKd6K698AuQwNqwj-6mi2ZR-2OSysMB-80eIPHfgAndtgfx485Dn0/s400/2-13-2011+070.JPG" /></a><br /><p align="center">Don't ask me how this happened so fast! Today is the second anniversary of this blog. True, I am not the most active nor prolific blogger, but I do persevere! And I love it. To celebrate, I want to have my first give away. Now I know this may take a while because I have had a rather quiet winter here in the blogosphere, but I hope I can make the rounds and remind many of you that I am alive and well! But no matter, just be the first person to identify a famous photographer in this --my second movie, followed by an email (link is in my profile) in which you include your mailing address, and I will be sending you a gift prepared especially for you from </p><p align="center">The Keeping Room at Graystone Cottage!</p><p align="center">Enjoy the images and the song. </p><p align="center"><br /><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='485' height='375' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dx75OXuMCZ3mMxDVdx9K5OKJ8oW95jYQbeSYYc77CrogLR0RS-lA-GYJBcGyqL5Kjlpaj7J0ihN6aqjiKlKvQ' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></p></div>FireLighthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06807248509319526615noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4526387584381191607.post-46680848739326288112011-02-14T12:25:00.003-06:002011-03-13T20:52:59.198-05:00Making Movies<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEga8grYmlvABqp-LmDnrG7OWl_eK6j28FkX7U-Lwk82IXGBbzH1bTPezPBCs3_9iAWjlQEIK7MAjQUt-I7Fb6jzHcldTuJ9pFnSHpAxU1yw1hWzsieC6bssTRJJSPtlUaule4yQ0UWXrXs/s1600/2-13-2011+080.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 266px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5573383982341950946" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEga8grYmlvABqp-LmDnrG7OWl_eK6j28FkX7U-Lwk82IXGBbzH1bTPezPBCs3_9iAWjlQEIK7MAjQUt-I7Fb6jzHcldTuJ9pFnSHpAxU1yw1hWzsieC6bssTRJJSPtlUaule4yQ0UWXrXs/s400/2-13-2011+080.JPG" /></a> The sun was out today. It was almost warm here for a short while. I paid a little visit to my struggling violas and the medieval country dancers who have not let the weather get them down.<br />I have been absent too long. I thought I would try something...almost spectacular for me....and try to make a short "movie" from some of my favorite images collected as I was gathering up pictures for my blog. It took me all afternoon and into the evening.<br />Perhaps, I am more influenced by the movies than I want to admit. Who has not imagined some of the more dramatic moments of his or her life emblazoned on the big screen? I am pretty sure my first effort will only be a little treasure to me and maybe to my family. I offer it here just to show you that I learned something new today!<br /><p>Many thanks to<span style="color:#ffcccc;"> </span><a href="http://chroniclesofacountrygirl.blogspot.com/"><span style="color:#990000;">Country Girl</span> </a>for her inspirational New Year's Day post and to Buttons & Bows for their song, "Inisheer" (I have these backward in the credits!!!)<br /></p><p align="center"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='433' height='330' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dxhznTo5czuqUiQnqwTcs6MXfNPHHtQkqrsfKUF8XuU0UI6zF-YmNNRxMHrqoA_KdQgcQV8UYkDtKVnbMv47w' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></p><p><br /></p><p align="center"> </p><p align="center"> </p><p align="center"> </p>FireLighthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06807248509319526615noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4526387584381191607.post-84519121692652801602011-01-08T11:59:00.007-06:002011-01-09T01:37:47.935-06:00Love Me Tender with a Birthday Bouquet, Lamb Chops, & a Happy, Happy Day!<div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhufSDN9KjzeX2G0TrLC4wAw9bYCuTumQuVktCgfgzQXQhA-o3Ll-IJPNkk_DCDlqipzm1fUrLeU8oR3-bLxXtMRbnbmCrJwnGgYZ8PQPOLwf2_5IKm-SFOs0X69eeHVNkgFbH72IrbFwo/s1600/birthdaybouquet3.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5560078903995476514" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhufSDN9KjzeX2G0TrLC4wAw9bYCuTumQuVktCgfgzQXQhA-o3Ll-IJPNkk_DCDlqipzm1fUrLeU8oR3-bLxXtMRbnbmCrJwnGgYZ8PQPOLwf2_5IKm-SFOs0X69eeHVNkgFbH72IrbFwo/s400/birthdaybouquet3.jpg" /></a>This vibrant and redolent bouquet was delivered to my door this morning, signed:</div><div align="center">We love you, Robin & Tim! I offer a sincere and warm thank you to </div><div align="center">my sister-in-law and her husband in NC. </div><div align="center">We had a grand Christmas with them and now THIS! It is beautiful!</div><div align="center"></div><div align="center">News flash: I have had another birthday, and it was a big one!</div><div align="center">No, the young cashier did not ask for my ID when I purchased some sherry and tawny port, but on the up side, my students from years past can still recognize me! Of every ten outings I make anywhere near home, I would say nine will surely put me face to face with a person I have had as a student. What a blessing that they always want to stop and visit for a moment!!</div><div align="center"><br /></div><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjw-T4ePi1TPYk7oT4EMZ3JoLIlbUfYjOfIam_a3-uzzzXiOtFxWT0l6sTswSdI1E2lqAHLbmrNSQtuMnIBkoDr46d-CeSx4DmzYrRB4axJT1mim-invp0tlwKMk7i9CspOPCcWcNF7h_0/s1600/BahBahBirthday2011.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5560078623618669570" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjw-T4ePi1TPYk7oT4EMZ3JoLIlbUfYjOfIam_a3-uzzzXiOtFxWT0l6sTswSdI1E2lqAHLbmrNSQtuMnIBkoDr46d-CeSx4DmzYrRB4axJT1mim-invp0tlwKMk7i9CspOPCcWcNF7h_0/s400/BahBahBirthday2011.jpg" /></a> I have also had these adorable nesting sheep added to my existing herd of woolly Colin's Creatures. (<a href="http://www.colinscreatures.com/">Click here for his website</a>.) I think this makes seven!</div><div align="center">I shall need to round them up and do a head count.<br />Thank you, Cameron & Little Lisa Lou Who!<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUW_KBAR_oppyL5KvsPndAa35-OYZOeaz6iKJ6YVBTNOWP6IIVU6FETBp_IMPkE5-VmXWML3x30P5-Kmlp0Ywge4z1rOeAExd6vnicYrmIOP_ItAaTkharepyenLipuIiHs5JZTyL1Z30/s1600/BirthdayBouquet.jpg"></a><br />~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~<br />No Elvis sightings, but NPR played a lovely instrumental of "Love Me Tender" as one of their transition pieces this morning. And the young lady who gave me a facial (a birthday treat earlier this week) revealed to me that her father was indeed an Elvis Impersonator!<br /><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error">Weehhhhhhll</span>, Thank You <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error">Vehhhry</span> Much! </div>FireLighthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06807248509319526615noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4526387584381191607.post-87262761127967207802010-12-31T15:39:00.004-06:002010-12-31T15:53:30.455-06:00Live, Love, Laugh...<div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBiCJc88vICXDIpsNr6s3imBkzMpyw4mF704FJAK0Bt0T6CsSi2rtrllNmhNRn2593StG8lf0X1YQlQwOxqzLfgtVDua9nyIxM41eBm4HF-bbEikTQsYYfAP3kXHD6qtkjeVZ-0_jyRx4/s1600/NancyChristmasDay2010.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5556964989477102994" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBiCJc88vICXDIpsNr6s3imBkzMpyw4mF704FJAK0Bt0T6CsSi2rtrllNmhNRn2593StG8lf0X1YQlQwOxqzLfgtVDua9nyIxM41eBm4HF-bbEikTQsYYfAP3kXHD6qtkjeVZ-0_jyRx4/s400/NancyChristmasDay2010.jpg" /></a> No one does it better than Nancy, my niece--as well as the little sister & daughter </div><div align="center">I never had-- and dear friend! </div><div align="center"> Here she is in Asheville, NC on Christmas Day! </div><div align="center">May your New Year be filled with health, happiness, </div><div align="center">wisdom, and wonder!</div>FireLighthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06807248509319526615noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4526387584381191607.post-82446558600953257872010-12-20T19:15:00.001-06:002017-10-31T15:53:34.612-05:00All I Want for Christmas...<div align="center">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsVmBmVuu1LvYFweVw57ndyxKLIWLeDHjhAhkvqvr1HhLgT8cCQAboxrJXTsM4cocTby9uzx2UyV_y7rs24m2z_pN8_ySct4GVsQQxT10YiTnj8YOXc2Pm_ul22blk2SJ5mrEOMoKvLBY/s1600/SepiaSaturdayPostsSanta.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5552767220579788706" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsVmBmVuu1LvYFweVw57ndyxKLIWLeDHjhAhkvqvr1HhLgT8cCQAboxrJXTsM4cocTby9uzx2UyV_y7rs24m2z_pN8_ySct4GVsQQxT10YiTnj8YOXc2Pm_ul22blk2SJ5mrEOMoKvLBY/s400/SepiaSaturdayPostsSanta.jpg" style="cursor: hand; display: block; height: 400px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 287px;" /></a> .<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuAcE88z7S1rqnU1DexZyLeo4EAunWYFELK7Nhd81fPko632KYC3dd6wgZuYR44Rkwl0HcNjHdMTCDj1NT2lnha1xgmDiCxw-ZuaHHVtPGD8uMRdA4Dtqyg_HVsFTNYbU2w43K6uhRDlA/s1600/SepiaSaturdayPostsSanta2.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5552766969283797266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuAcE88z7S1rqnU1DexZyLeo4EAunWYFELK7Nhd81fPko632KYC3dd6wgZuYR44Rkwl0HcNjHdMTCDj1NT2lnha1xgmDiCxw-ZuaHHVtPGD8uMRdA4Dtqyg_HVsFTNYbU2w43K6uhRDlA/s400/SepiaSaturdayPostsSanta2.jpg" style="display: block; height: 400px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 283px;" />..is a good old fashioned department store and the Santa Claus to go
with it. There is nothing like Christmas to send us back in time. More
and more, I long for the excitement of the annual drive to downtown
Birmingham, Alabama. My mother would make sure that my two older sisters
and I were warmly dressed for the great <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">ooohhhh</span> and <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">aaaah</span> stroll outside <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Loveman's</span> and <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">Pizitz's</span>
enchanted windows. What we beheld were the most detailed interiors with
busy kitchens, Christmas trees, dining tables all populated with
moving figures dressed in intiricately designed Victorian costumes. Then
there were exteriors of villages with horses and carriages or early
automobiles and trains. Some years there were ballet dancers and
nutcrackers. I wish I could find a book about these displays.
Hum....Google start your engines!My last trip there was probably in the
mid seventies when my older son was about four years old. The malls were
on the prowl all over the surrounding suburbs, gobbling up one great
tradition after another. The mall versions were never like the downtown
namesakes. They never had the charm and personality, never had the
Christmas windows, toy departments, or Santa Clauses. Once those
flagships sank, a very special Christmas magic disappeared from the
Magic City. Fortunately, my mother was one to embrace the experience
which has been so endearingly celebrated in the classic film A CHRISTMAS
STORY, and I have these pictures to spark some <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">wondrous</span> winter memories.</a>Sisters Sue (left) & Anita (top)<br />
and Marnie on Santa's lap.<br />
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FireLighthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06807248509319526615noreply@blogger.com7