Heroes . . .

The Memorial Day remembrance of those who died fighting for our country has left me thinking of the three men in Portland, two of whom died defending a hijab-wearing teen and her African-American friend from the racist and anti-Muslim taunts of a deranged man.

(And he was seriously deranged -- fuller story HERE) 

By standing up for two strangers under attack, Ricky John Best, Taliesin Myrddin Namkai-Meche, and Micah Fletcher showed humankind at its finest.

Best and Namkai-Meche were murdered for their bravery; Fletcher was wounded in the attack.

May their memories be a blessing. And may we all be as brave. 

It's the Little Things

Two weeks old!

Miss Birdie Studies on Memorial Day

Why, Lizzie Beth, you like to give me a fright. I was just setting here thinking and didn't hear you pecking at the door. Come right on in and get you a chair.

No, I weren't here yesterday. Bernice sent her boy to bring me to Decoration Day at their cemetery over on Ridge Top. 
You know I love Decoration Day and visiting with all the Quiet Ones -- and I know a good many of them up there on Ridge Top. 

We set out flowers and they had little American flags for all the veterans, even the ones that fought in the War Between the States, which seemed kindly strange to me. And that's some of what I been setting here studying on.

There was a feller there gave a speech about how Memorial Day was started to honor the folks who died fighting for their country and how at first it was just the Union soldiers what was honored and the Confederates had a different day but then they said Memorial Day could be for both sides. Which makes sense, you know, for they all believed they was fighting for their homeland. Though some, I reckon, was fighting because they was conscripted and didn't have no choice. 

And that got me thinking. Now that they don't have the draft anymore, I guess men, and women too, sign up of their own free will -- though I've known of several troublesome young uns right here in Marshall County that the judge told them they could choose between jail and enlisting and so they joined up. 

I wonder, if those same young uns got blowed up by a land mine, would you still say they sacrificed their lives for their country? And if they got sick and died or if they got killed in an accident and not in battle, are they still heroes? 

And what about them that came back home from war but had been so ruint by what they'd done and seen that they went to drugs and ended up dead? Seems to me they ought to count as much as the others.

Oh, how I do run on. . . don't pay me no mind, Lizzie Beth. I been setting here studying on all this too long . . . thinking on how many wars there have been in my life and how many Memorial Days I've gone and stuck flags on graves. And wondering if ever there will be an end to war and these young uns going off to die.

Of course we had ought to remember them -- for their folks's sake as much as anything. When you've lost a young un, maybe it eases the hurt to hear them called heroes.

But you know what I wish? I wish that instead of planting poppies and waving flags and having picnics, some smart folks would set to and work as hard at making peace as they do at making war.

Two Ways . . .

There are two ways to live your life,

One is as though nothing is a miracle.

The other is as though everything is a miracle.

Albert Einstein said that.

I like the idea of being surrounded by miracles . . .

And am grateful every day.

Josie's First Dinner Party

A Very Nice Day

Thursday dawned bright and clear and rather cool -- a perfect day to be outside! Shelia, my friend since 7th grade, was in town and offered to come over and pull weeds.  Shelia helped me with some of my earliest garden projects forty years ago -- and this felt like old times.

But first she had to meet Josie -- who was disguised as a sweet pastel burrito.

Then we spent the morning pulling weeds and doing a bit of pruning while Layla struck picturesque poses.

Could one ask for a better friend . . . or a more perfect day?

Woke! (And Not Sure She Likes It)

I spent Tuesday afternoon at Justin and Claui's house, mostly holding Josie so Claui could get a much needed nap. When Claui woke Josie to change her, at last I had a chance at a non-sleeping picture

Changing time often seems to come right after feeding time and Josie is not pleased.

As our friend Vic noted, "There'll be times you'll call her Josie Wails." 

And she did but not for long. 

And Now for Something Completely Different

A Black Vulture (and a road-kill groundhog.) 

As I was driving to the grocery store on Monday, I saw a flock of these birds, maybe twenty, at the roadside and was amazed. We have lots of Turkey Vultures -- much bigger with red-wattled heads -- but the only place I've ever seen these guys was at Wakulla Springs in north Florida. (Justin tells me that they are common at the compost facility where he works.)

Anyway, I failed to get a shot of the flock but on my way back home this solitary specimen was obliging.

I think he or she is actually kinda handsome.

'Enough is enough,' he or she said.

'Move on. Nothing to see here.'

What, More Baby PIcs?

N_ _ SERY

N_ _ SERY. What's missing, Josie?

If all goes as planned, Josie will be coming home today to the nursery awaiting her. We are all excited!

                                                 Books to be read to our girl. . .

A comfy chair for rocking her . . .

A beautiful crocheted sweater for the cooler evenings . . .

All presided over by a friendly cow!