Today was a warmer day. I made a few more pictures of our garden. I’m always thrilled after a Wisconsin winter (even a mild one) to see color and greenery again. Here are a few shots of what’s growing in our gardens.
A new crop of Cat Mint (or is it Nip?) is on the way.
Soon the cats won’t have to get their high from the old dry stuff they’ll have tender fresh new twigs to maul.
Lemon Custard Tulips
Our lemon custard tulips are always the first to bloom. This year was no different. But my favorite is pictured next: the blue hyacinth. I’ve always loved their blooms more than the tulips.
Beautiful in Blue
Just because it’s my favorite you get another one.
A close up makes it better
I like them so much I even enjoy the grape hyacinths but they migrate because squirrels like to dig them up. Ours are starting to spill out into our yard and our neighbor is enjoying a few. That’s okay since the squirrels brought us some red tulips from somewhere to go in our daffys on the side our house in exchange. Here’s both flowers.
Now see aren’t they pretty.
I love the center of the red tulips.
Look at the pollen no wonder my allergies are going.
That’s the garden tour for now. After I made these pictures Rappy and I went down to the lake. There I made pictures while the sun was shining. More photos from that tomorrow.
Rappy enjoys the tulips
That’s it for tonight. Take care, sleep well. Remember to give me a like if you liked the post and rate it with stars! Also don’t miss tomorrow’s lake pictures and the Southport Public Beach House here in Kenosha Wisconsin by following or you can sign up for e-mail notices right there in the upper right corner.
As always I’d love to hear from you feel free to leave a comment. It’ll so up when I get it and I check regularly. Until tomorrow!
After walking the dog today I came home and hit the shower. Okay after my walk today I did that. Rappy is getting old and doesn’t walk as far or as fast as I like to. So I walk her a few blocks bring her back, put her in the fenced in yard and go do my walk. Then when we go in the house after that I shower. Which makes my daily shower about eleven in the morning. (I walk after morning writing.)
Now the stage is set for my tale.
I was in the bathroom all ready to step into the shower when the front doorbell rang. So I was in the decision mode of do I step into the water or do I get out, get dressed and go to the door. Eh probably my monthly comic delivery I decide so it’ll be on the porch. The UPS man puts my packages on my glass porch but rings the door bell to let me know of the delivery.
I step into the water. As I am about to lean back and wet my hair the doorbell rings again. “Eh screw ’em,” I think. A true luxury thought I’ve not had in 18 years. When you’re a mom and receive an unexpected call or doorbell ring dire injury to your child is the first thought. Now he’s in Madison on his own and doing fine, I can think “Eh, screw ’em” without fretting that I’m leaving my child alone to face some dire consequence.
While in the shower I remember one other time I couldn’t go to the door because I was in the bathroom. It was 1995. It was before the mother worries. It was the day before the Navy Birthday Ball in Battle Creek Michigan. We were living in Kalamazoo Michigan at the time.
I can’t remember how it all came about but Mike’s uniform with the cutaway dress jacket had an issue with the pants. We were waiting for the pants to be FedEx’d just in time to go to the ball. Without them he’d be pantless with those little shirt stays running from his shirt tail to the tops of his formal socks not a in uniform look for the ball.
Any way I was upstairs in the bathroom when the doorbell rang. I couldn’t get myself together and down the stairs fast enough knowing I was waiting on the all important pants. I got there in time to see the truck pull away. I ran out the door like a crazy woman waving and shouting after it but to no avail it kept on going. When I returned to the house I found a notice that they would attempt redelivery on Monday. NOOOOoooOOOOO!!! The ball was the next day SATURDAY.
So I call the 800 number on the notice. I get a nice customer service lady. I explain our problem. I said we’d even pay the Saturday fee to get them there Saturday morning. She said that might not be necessary she’d send a message to the driver since he’s still in the area and have him circle back. Relief flooded me and I thanked her profusely.
Now I sat on the stoop my hair drying in a mess waiting for the return of the FedEx truck I wasn’t going to miss it. In about fifteen minutes here it came down the street and stopped in front of my house. He ran out with the box and did the business of having me sign for it. I told him how glad I was that he could come back. He said “No problem but I have to ask just what did she mean by ‘Cinderella needs HIS pants for the ball’ as reason of urgent redelivery?”
When I finished laughing I explained. So here’s the picture of Cinderella in his pants and me laughing at his mentioning what the photo would have looked like if the FedEx didn’t have such good customer service.
Cinderella in his pants at the Navy Birthday Ball
So this time it wasn’t as dire. It was only political stuff as we are in an election year and have a recall going here in Wisconsin. I got out to my porch, clean, fully dressed but wet hair to find two different political fliers stuck to my door.
Oh well until next time. As always I’d love to hear from you. If you laughed at the post give me a like. If you really enjoyed it give me a follow.
Today has been a rainy day and I’ve been low on energy. It’s colder now but the rain has greened things. Soon the tulips will bloom.
Tulips ready to bloom
Then they will join our already bloomin’ daffys.
Daffys in a row
I am glad to see the green. It wasn’t a particularly hard winter but it was a dreary one.
As always I’d love to hear from ya feel free to comment below. The comment will show up when I get it. Also if you like any of my posts give me a few stars and a like.
Rote memorization – something I had to do often in school and I hated it. Johan Horak’s Google+ post about his experience with learning English and Shakespeare brought my experience with the Bard back to memory.
It seems of the many things we had to memorize and recite flawlessly to our teachers the most common were Shakespeare passages. For good or ill over the course of junior high and senior high I had to memorize and recite the following from Shakespeare 1) “out damned spot” speech in Macbeth, 2) St Crispin’s Day speech from Henry V, 3) What light from yonder window breaks soliloquy from Romeo & Juliet, 4) To Be or Not To be from Hamlet, 5) Speak of Me as I Am from Othello his final speech in the play, and finally 6) a sonnet of our choice, being the odd bird I am I chose Sonnet 130 I was the only one my Senior English teacher had up to that point that choice THAT one. LOL!
Also I had to memorize the introduction to Chaucer’s Canterbury Tales in both modern English and Old English. I used to make Aaron laugh when he was little by reciting the old English one because you can pick up some words in it and others are absurd sounding to our modern ear. “Talk that silly talk again Mommy.” I’d get to “longen folk to goon on pilgrimages” he’d be roaring in belly laughter.
How much I remember of these? Not much, now that I look over the originals. Yet when I started reading them I found that old memory came back and I could pick up and recite. I remembered fragments of them except for the Old English which stayed with me like the School Rock Constitution Preamble Song – no I can’t really tell you what it is but once I start it all rolls out with the cadence of poem or song. I have to say now if I want to gain meaning from that I have to slow down recite the Old English then give thought to translate it to modern – I don’t remember any of the modern English translation – it wasn’t as fun to say nor sounded nearly as silly.
What I did remember was the gist of what is being said – 1) our wrong deeds are a guilty stain that often only we see but our guilt shows them to others, 2) soldiers have paid a price for the freedom and comfort societies enjoy, 3) when in the throes of new love of there is nothing else in our world but that will fade as reality intrudes, 4) life and living is a decision we should consciously make to make the most of it, 5) all of us make stupid mistakes, some harmful ones we can’t take back, and we hope when these acts are remembered by others they do so with some compassion. Even if we deserve it or not, we hope they do, and 6) you don’t have to be an ideal beauty to be loved.
As much as I hated the rote memorization and recitation of these I can say I now appreciate it. I spent time with great words and had to consider them over and over even if I didn’t want to do it in order to be able to recite. But in the end looking back I gained important life lessons from the great works. Those are six great life lessons that would serve any one well. I can thank many English and Lit teachers for making me take the time to consider them so much that they are with me over 30 years later. Also makes me have a tinge of regret that Aaron never had to commit sections of great works to memory.
So maybe I can’t recite these in total any more but I think honestly I’ve gotten the value and beauty of the words.
For 25+ years I’ve been married to a man who has been attached to the Silent Service in some manner or another. No it’s not alphabet soup agency it’s the submarine service. When we started our marriage it was the Cold War and he was an Ensign now it’s the War on Terror and he’s a Captain. I’ve always been the same rank – a Navy wife.
Yeah it’s always been hard. It’s been hard to watch the big reception for ships but never being able to tell anyone when my husband was coming home from being submerged for about 3 months with no communication.
Yeah it was hard to endure Hurricane Hugo and the clean up without even a phone call or email from Mike of encouragement. Insurance for home repair, waiting for permission to return home to see if I had a home left, getting the debris from my yard and returning mementos found to their owners all without my husband. My husband somewhere under the Atlantic having last heard “Charleston destroyed” wondering if I survived.
Ensign Michael Eklund and Mary Louise Bright Eklund photo by my parents used with permission.
Yeah it was hard every time I have to do something that involved joint ownership to be hassled about the power of attorney and be looked at suspiciously when I explained no he wasn’t ill no there wasn’t a phone number where he could be contacted. I always wanted to say “NO I didn’t kill him so it would only take my signature to renew the tags.”
Yeah it was hard to watch life flow on normal around you. Crowds with no idea there were people putting their lives on the line so it could happen. I wanted nothing more than a thanks. Really, not talking to my husband for 6 months a year while he protected the nation would have been so much easier if a few people not tied to the Navy or our family had simply said “thank-you.”
When I would lament the lack of people appreciating the sacrifices of those on active duty Mike would shake his head and say it’s his job then he’d quote Churchill “Men sleep peacefully in their beds at night because rough men stand ready to do violence on their behalf.” He’d remind me that no where in that commitment does it say a thanks is required or the people should even notice those men (and today women) standing ready. He’s right but dammit I wanted a thanks for him, for me.
I’ve been the wife cooking dinner while a haggard man came home from working his civilian job and spent the evening calling men in his unit to war zones. Both of us sat down to dinners with no appetites knowing the homes that had just been turned upside down from those calls. We knew too well we’d gotten the call and would get it again. Still we choked down dinner for our son. As the posters said in WWII London we had to “carry on.”
Glenwood Elementary in Oak Ridge Tennessee’s 1st 9-11 remembrance ceremony. Aaron is in the center there with blue shirt with American flag on it.
I’m the Mom who stoically told her son after 9/11 that his father had a duty that took him away from us. I also told my 3rd grader that day that his father’s generation wouldn’t see the end of this war while on active duty that he and his generation would fight it too. In the past year I’ve been among those that said good-bye to my son’s friends as they went to that war. If fate hadn’t blinded Aaron in one eye – he’d be going with them. Thank goodness that black dress for funerals has stayed in the closet.
Yeah it was hard when Mike got the call back to active duty, again. Thankfully for us wars aren’t fought by old men like Mike. They are fought by young men like our son Aaron and his friends. I always regretted being right all those year ago. Mike spent most of his active duty in Tampa in the war room doing what salty old Cold War sailors do, advise. He did go into the war zone a few times. Now I was angry not for us, honestly that time had passed, but for all the young men and women whose lives changed or were lost while back home the biggest news was a pop star shaved her head and went crazy or the lines for the latest video game.
Mike and Aaron
Yeah I get what the young serviceman is saying. I’ve lived it for 25 years. So what do we want from those of you untouched by war be it the Cold War or the War on Terror. Think, stop and think about why you sleep peacefully in your bed, why your major concern can be standing in line for the next big video game, how it is you can live your life untouched while we’ve been in a war for years? Then chill out, so the foam on your coffee isn’t perfect there are rough men and women who’d just like a hot brewed cup of coffee right now.
I know times are financially tough and if you can’t donate to help the USO or Wounded Warrior project or some other worthy charity that supports our service men and women. There are ways that only take your time – support a family who has a member over seas. Maybe shovel the snow or mow the lawn so a harried single parent due to the other being in service doesn’t have to worry about that. Maybe find a book drive to send those books you’ve already read over to those serving. If nothing at all at least tell a spouse of a service member thanks – while you’re doing that tell ’em thanks for me too. Then maybe just maybe give them a hug when the tears come.
When making notes for genealogy I enjoy my vast collection of color ink pens. When I change sources or persons being researched I reach in and grab another color to make the notes.
Recently I’ve been playing in my pens with various color inks. I’m such an office supply slut, stationery slut, and pen slut it’s astounding. Any way, I’ve been doing some genealogy notes and to vary the entries as well as entertain myself I’ve been reaching into my giant stash of pens to change color from each person’s notes. It also serves to easily see when I changed sources or persons in a source. In the endeavor I’ve seen handwriting from the late 1700s to my own today. Which got me thinking…
My best friend and I were talking about how poor the handwriting from late teens to early twenty somethings has become. Now granted my penmanship on notes for me isn’t grand nor is it in my personal journal. But if I need to write to someone else I tend to make sure it’s legible, well proportioned, and attempt to be straight in my lines.
As I looked over my own handwriting samples for this entries photos I was surprised to see my notes when working on writing tasks (like researching Male Cherokee given names for a character) tend to be very decently formed block printing. Didn’t consciously make the choice but apparently my subconscious does. However when I’m flowing on plot ideas it’s chicken scratch cursive.
Here I was researching given names for Cherokee men and their meanings for a character.
So why does the younger generation’s handwriting look so awful to us? I think part of it is we were raised going to handwriting/penmanship class daily from Kindergarten through 8th grade. It is because of the work of my parents (mainly my Mom) and many frustrated teachers that I can now with effort write well in block print and cursive if I want to (or my subconscious wants to do it).
Somewhere between my attending those grades and my son attending those grades penmanship was no longer taught beyond here’s how you make the letters in print lesson for half a year in Kindergarten and a few years later here’s how you do it in cursive lesson for a quarter of a year.
This has been an issue with us since Aaron set foot in Kindergarten. It’s no longer taught how to hold a pen/pencil. When we’d correct his hamfisted grasp we’d be told his teacher said he could hold it any way he wanted. During parent teacher conference we were told this is true. Also we discovered penmanship wasn’t something that was even considered in grading for any course. Then again by fourth grade he was turning in word processed work. I thought maybe this was some progressive thinking of that school district but no it’s not. I’ve surveyed parents of children of similar ages and came away with the same answers. Not much writing is taught, even less concern is given to penmanship. Our kids don’t know how to do this well because we never taught them. (Lord knows I tried but TEACHER SAYS)
Sometimes recording those thoughts requires many colors of ink! LOL! I do enjoy pens that glide well or have unique ink.
The combination of not teaching penmanship and the use of keyboards for just about everything has caused the ability to form letters on the page in various styles to become a lost art. I’m not talking calligraphy here just basic writing. I have to admit I regret this. I’ve found so much joy in putting writing instrument to paper. I’ve thrilled at walking to the mailbox to get a handwritten message from a friend far away. I had pen pals from other states and countries all through middle school and high school. I’ve journaled most of my life. If I’m thinking out something I take pen to paper instead of clicking a keyboard. It’s how I get alone with my thoughts.
I’ve journaled most of my life. I go there to play on paper, record thoughts, sketch, doodle, plan, or whatever. Here I was playing with colored pencils and yes that’s a gold pen right there on top. Writes in gold too. OHH!
That’s changing. I should say that’s changed. Kids take notes on the laptops nowadays. They proof on the screen not on paper. They think things through, note reminders schedule activities, contact friends in faraway places all with a keyboard be it on a phone, connected to a cpu or on a tablet. No need to put pen or pencil to paper. It’s not their generation. They don’t judge one another by handwriting (admit it people over 40 you do, you judge lots by handwriting from education to emotional investment in the missive).
I’ve defended the younger generation and their keyboard usage. When a writing teacher said editing on paper was better I commented for us yes but those who have never turned in a handwritten paper in their life (and yes some are in grad school now can say that) working on the keyboard and screen is their life training. It’s a talent I still struggle to master – screen line edits. I do much better with a red pen and printed copy.
I’m fine with technical advancement. I remind myself when I see a new college grad with penmanship that would have gotten me a D in third grade that s/he will never hand write a thing for work or personal life for that matter. Yet I wonder if they know what they are missing. What would they do without electricity for say a month or so? It was six weeks after Hugo before I got electricity back. I could write checks and mail them (oddly the mail was the only service NOT interrupted). I could journal. I could write friends and assure them I’m okay and clean up is going well. I had pen, paper, and envelops.
Total dependence on keyboard or penmanship isn’t good. I think honestly there’s a good mix to be struck here. I think honestly as much as I hated penmanship classes. I was always a mediocre student in them. Yet now I find I’m thankful for the nine years of lessons. There is a joy to handwriting that I don’t want to be lost to those that are younger.
I’ve never liked goody-goody heroes. I don’t find it interesting to see a perfect person do perfect things saving schmoes like me from the problems and troubles we find ourselves.
I prefer my heroes to be relatable. I want them to have dents, bangs and scratches from real life. I want them to be tempted to do what’s easy, to go for revenge, or to be self-serving. Sometimes I want a hero to act not necessarily from noble motivation but do what’s expedient. C’mon the rest of us do that would a hero at least be tempted? at least dismiss those thoughts?
I’m a fan of the reluctant hero. The one that rises to the occasion because there is no one else to do so. The one that doesn’t want to be there and if Superman or Captain America swooped in to take over my hero would gladly let them. Yet since the goody-goodies aren’t there and my hero is, they do the best they can to do the right thing even if they regret it the whole time. The old “why did I get involved” or in Die Hard John McClane’s “come to the west coast…” line.
I can relate to a hero like that. I can’t relate to a hero that doesn’t have a devil on their shoulder. One that isn’t always doing the right thing. I guess that’s why I loved Batman first. Yep my first word in this life was Batman. Tell me I wasn’t destined for the darker heroes and to read comics. I still like Bruce Wayne but I’ve fallen hard for James “Logan” Howlett aka Wolverine. Heck I like Josey Wales, ” I ain’t got nothin’ better to do.”
As a writer I know good characters aren’t one dimensional but multidimensional. I strive to make my villains be antagonists not purely evil but the one my lead character is struggling against. I want the reader to sympathize with both characters but their loyalties ultimately fall with my lead character, the hero, the protagonist. Now my lead won’t always do the right thing he’ll have flaws because those are challenges to his growth in the piece as is the confrontation with the antagonist. He has to deal with himself to deal with his opponent and that to me is not only interesting but more realistic. In the end neither my protagonist or antagonist are the same people they were at the beginning. If they were confronted with the same situation again they’d act differently because of the experiences in my story. To me those are good characters, they grow, they change. A story is getting a big change in their lives but if I read another story later down the timeline I can see they are changed from their experiences. That keeps me reading. Goody-goodies don’t change they just go about doing good for good sake.
Perfection bores me. I won’t read it very long. It’s predictable. It’s something I’ll never be. BUT I’d like to think if I was forced into the right situation despite my wishes to be rescued I’d do the right thing until someone more qualified or better at it came along. Then like John McClane I’d kiss their dalmatian for saving me. I can relate to having to rise to the circumstances, or doing what’s right despite the desire not to do it. I’m just human and that’s what I want my heroes to be at heart- human.
You are going to get tired of reading this but as always I’d love to chat with you. Tell me what you think and you are welcome to disagree (politely). You can comment here, it’ll show up when I get it. You can reach out to me on Google+, Flickr, or Twitter (@marylouiseklund). You can e-mail me at marylouiseelund @ (with two e’s unlike Twitter) gmail.com or yahoo.com.
Really I haven’t. Just been hibernating and considering subjects of posts. Oh and all the usual stuff I do…
I’ll be back soon to talk about why I don’t like Superman and Capt. America types. Until then enjoy a picture of Kenosha during nice weather unlike what we’ve been having lately.
The red lighthouse that is now privately owned. Wonder what they are going to do with it.
Yesterday, like so many I went black from the internet. I thought I’d have withdrawal pains. But I didn’t. No I had weather front pains but not internet withdrawal pains. However a point had to be made SOPA and PIPA are dangerous. I’m not for pirates I am for artists. Heck I make my money from copyrighted material that’s mine. I support protecting that totally! However I also make my money expressing myself which I don’t want limited. Apparently the sponsors of the bills got the message.
I worked on my outline update for the steampunk novel edit/rewrite. I read a book. I cleaned the bathroom. All good and worthy things I could do without the internet.
Aaron and Adam cook
Then I called to make an appointment for a massage. The very best Christmas gift I got was a certificate for 6 one hour massages. Now that I’m over the stomach bug and aching from weather fronts I thought it was perfect time to call. I was expecting to schedule one for next week. But nope she had an opening at 2pm. With a bit of scurrying (shaving my winter legs among that) I was there. Best massage of my life! She did a full hour and half! I left totally relaxed.
Sara, Mistress of Pancakes
Then I came home to Aaron and friends preparing dinner for Mike and me. Our anniversary was the 17th and we went out. So our gift from Aaron was he’d make dinner. It was breakfast for dinner. There were six of them in the kitchen cooking away.
While waiting Mike and I were talking about the Italian ocean liner that sank. The liner captain that in my Navy Captain husband’s view was a criminal for his negligent actions causing the sinking and abandoning his post during the evacuation. Mike wanted me to hear the Coast Guard shouting at the man to get back on his ship and coordinate the evacuation efforts. I said I’d read about it on the 17th. No I needed to hear it, hear the Coast Guard’s voice and the anger in it. “Google it,” he said. I told him I couldn’t and I was blacking out the internet in my life for the day for a purpose. It was the first thing I searched for this morning and yes that man was pissed. I don’t speak Italian but it’s plain that man is pissed.
Ahh…
So after a wonderful dinner being so darn relaxed I couldn’t keep my eyes open I went to bed at 8pm and slept like a rock. I got up at 8 am to a new day with internet, still full from dinner, news the SOPA and PIPA bill sponsors had abandoned it, and joints that move more smoothly. Really I can’t think of a better internet blackout day – except one with a reliable car.
As usual I’d love to hear from you. You are welcome to comment here. It’ll show up when I get it. You can also find me on Google+, Twitter (@marylouiseklund), or Flickr (click on the photos). If you want to email me you can at gmail.com or yahoo.com I’m marylouiseeklund on either one.
Mary Louise Eklund 