"At her happiest Kate violated grammar just for the joy of it. 'Ain't life splendid', and 'ain't we got this'."
That's a quote I got from the book I'm reading at present, Virgil Wander. I read it over and over, because it fits into my own description very well. I learned not to say "ain't" in first grade, at my one-room schoolhouse. English was one of my favorite subjects throughout my school years. I had almost perfect grammar. I corrected my parents' language when they slipped up. I diagrammed sentences. When English became senior literature, I dived in even deeper.
I suppose I would have spoken the king's English for life, were it not for my re-discovering country music back around 1964. My kind of rock-and-roll was receding into the past, and the Beetles were changing what sort of songs I was hearing on my life-long favorite radio station, WHB, out of Kansas City. A co-worker of mine at National Bellas Hess was constantly talking about George Jones and Patsy Cline. Patsy had not long before died in a plane crash after appearing in Kansas City. Since I no longer enjoyed WHB, I asked her what station she listened to so I could hear her favorites and get my own opinion; it was KCKN. I turned the dial on my stereo and never looked back. Oh, the simplicity of the words and music! Oh, how I loved the stories I heard in the lyrics! The melodies sounded so simple, I figured maybe I could even learn to chord on a guitar and learn to sing the songs with my own accompaniment.
Loretta Lynn was in her heyday, writing and singing her own songs; Dolly Parton was just starting up, singing songs she wrote: I liked the homey, down-south way they turned the phrases in their songs, and almost subconsciously began talking in the same way they phrased their songs.
There have been a few times I made an effort to return to proper English, but folks, that southern way of talking fit me like a glove. When Cliff and I are in a northern state to attend a tractor show, someone will always ask what part of the south I'm from. I suppose in a way, Missouri is at least half southern: When I was growing up, most of our Church of Christ preachers had southern accents, even the ones originally from the southern part of Missouri.
Country music has changed a lot. Cliff and I seldom listen to the newer country stations because it sounds like rock to us. We are blessed to live in an age when a person can make his own custom radio station that plays the songs from whatever era she loves. But I will always be "country" in some fashion or other.
On another note, I had to take a Facebook break. There are things going on that I can only watch from the sidelines, stuff that I really have no say in and yet am deeply concerned about (not politics), and it was tearing me apart inside. I got off Facebook for my own mental health (and physical health, for that matter). Maybe when everything is settled that was bothering me I will talk about it if I can find a way to do it without being too specific. Or not. Either way, I needed a break. When I go back in a few days, I may just fix my Facebook so all the parties in the conflict I've been watching can't be seen by me unless I go directly to their Facebook status. That will help immensely. Because I WON'T go to their status. I can't unfriend them all; someone would assume I was taking sides.
I appreciate all of my readers here. Thank you for following my blog. If any of my Facebook followers are reading this, I still have Facebook Messenger if you need to contact me.
Faithfully yours,
Donna
Friday, November 22, 2019
Monday, November 18, 2019
Hello Darkness, my old friend
While Cliff and I have no complaints, things happen around us to people we care about that sometimes cause us concern. Normally, I don't obsess on the problems of other adults, even if we are talking about my adult children. I don't often get down in the dumps about such things: I pray about situations, but remind myself that once a person is an adult, what they do is their own business. One incident happened recently, not to a relative, but to someone who feels like a relative. Things like this compound, and add to that the fact it's hard not to worry about the state of the world... well, guess what? I find myself depressed.
I'm not used to living in this state of mind, and was somewhat puzzled until it hit me: It's my wintertime depression causing this, making me think everything is a tragedy! I've been through this every winter of my adult life, and it will pass.
We enjoyed the trip to Jackson, Minnesota, to tour the AGCO manufacturing plant. It's enlightening and interesting to me to visit any sort of manufacturing plant and watch how things are made. Our guide was excellent, and since we were given very good headsets to wear, even Cliff, with his impaired hearing, had no problem making out every word. It was a long tour, and all but five or six of us walked the entire time; they had a vehicle of some kind that had room for five or six folks to sit in. I'm thankful that I can still walk two hours without too much pain. I found myself wishing I had taken my cane-chair along, because every time our group stopped I could have had a chance to sit down. However, the people who rode in the vehicle were much, much more handicapped than I am, so I used the opportunity to be thankful for what I have and what I am able to do at this stage of my life.
My favorite stop on the trip was in Greenfield, Iowa: The Iowa Aviation Museum. We had an excellent guide through that facility also. He was passionate about his love of the old airplanes and the history of aviation, and I could easily have listened to him another hour. A small area of the museum is dedicated to flight 232, a plane that actually crashed right at this location. Our guide was a cop at the time this happened, and he told many stories of things that went on and people who came out of the crash alive. He remembers many, if not all, of the names of those who survived. Can you imagine what those people on the plane felt like, knowing they were heading straight into a crash landing? Wow! You can read more about it HERE.
Most of our tractor club members prefer our trips only require one night away from home in a motel, so there are a lot of things crammed into two days, but our club secretary does a wonderful job of coordinating things so our time isn't wasted, also juggling the times around so we don't miss any meals. There were also at least 12 hours on the road in a bus in those two days. I'm proud of our tough group of senior citizens, many of whom are in their 80's, for even attempting such a trip. Some use canes to get around. They don't complain, but you can tell by just looking at them it isn't easy. God bless them for their courage to get on a bus for such a long distance, then get off and walk through places of interest. For their sake, I wish all museums had places available throughout so they could sit down occasionally. That was the only fault I found at the Aviation museum. There are seats in the lobby, but in the exhibit area there's not a single bench or seat.
On another note, I am reading Michelle Obama's book, Becoming. It's been available to check out at the library for some time, but I always breezed past it thinking it might be all about politics. I didn't vote for Obama for president, but I came to admire his behavior while he was in office. Nevertheless, I seemed to be avoiding that book every time I saw it and I finally asked myself, "What are you afraid of?" I checked out the audio version and have been listening to it during my early-morning time before Cliff gets up. What wonderful, hard-working, wise parents Michelle Obama had! Anyone with small children could learn a lot from reading about them. So far, I love her story of her growing-up years; the book may not hold my interest later. That depends on what direction it goes. I'm having problems lately finding any book that suits me.
Cliff is reading his second, or maybe third, Chet and Bernie book. I'd been telling him about these books for ages, but there's no way you can tell anyone they should read books narrated by a dog and get them to take you seriously. All he had to do was read the first one; he was hooked. I advised him not to read them all end to end, because they start to seem too much alike. So right now he's reading some non-fiction book I chose for him. He likes good biographies: His favorite was, I believe, about U. S. Grant... if I have that wrong, I'll come back and change it.
I finally managed to lose the pounds that had accumulated on my body ever since the early part of the year, and even a couple more besides. It's actually easier now than it once was because I just don't want to eat as much as I used to, and some of my tastes have changed with age. I still try my best to help Cliff out, but I refuse to be an enforcer. That only makes me feel as though I'm treating him like a child. I do watch his portions and try to encourage him, and he really does try. It's just hard for him. And of course, as the holidays approach, trying to control what we eat is like getting through a field full of land mines.
It's deer season, so Arick and various of his friends and relatives have been out back hunting each morning and evening. So Gabe and I take our walk along 224 highway, like I did many years ago. But if we walked in the pasture, we'd scare away all the deer that might be in the area; also, we could get shot!
Cliff will get a couple of tests run Tuesday so the cardiologist can figure out whether there's a problem he needs to tend to. He'll do a nuclear stress test, which is how his original problems thirteen years ago were discovered, and also some kind of scan... there are so many different kinds of scans that can be taken, I never know which kind they are talking about. I think I'll find out exactly what it is and write it down while we're there.
Life is short, God is good, and we will do our best to enjoy each day.
Yours truly
Donna
Peace.
I'm not used to living in this state of mind, and was somewhat puzzled until it hit me: It's my wintertime depression causing this, making me think everything is a tragedy! I've been through this every winter of my adult life, and it will pass.
We enjoyed the trip to Jackson, Minnesota, to tour the AGCO manufacturing plant. It's enlightening and interesting to me to visit any sort of manufacturing plant and watch how things are made. Our guide was excellent, and since we were given very good headsets to wear, even Cliff, with his impaired hearing, had no problem making out every word. It was a long tour, and all but five or six of us walked the entire time; they had a vehicle of some kind that had room for five or six folks to sit in. I'm thankful that I can still walk two hours without too much pain. I found myself wishing I had taken my cane-chair along, because every time our group stopped I could have had a chance to sit down. However, the people who rode in the vehicle were much, much more handicapped than I am, so I used the opportunity to be thankful for what I have and what I am able to do at this stage of my life.
My favorite stop on the trip was in Greenfield, Iowa: The Iowa Aviation Museum. We had an excellent guide through that facility also. He was passionate about his love of the old airplanes and the history of aviation, and I could easily have listened to him another hour. A small area of the museum is dedicated to flight 232, a plane that actually crashed right at this location. Our guide was a cop at the time this happened, and he told many stories of things that went on and people who came out of the crash alive. He remembers many, if not all, of the names of those who survived. Can you imagine what those people on the plane felt like, knowing they were heading straight into a crash landing? Wow! You can read more about it HERE.
Most of our tractor club members prefer our trips only require one night away from home in a motel, so there are a lot of things crammed into two days, but our club secretary does a wonderful job of coordinating things so our time isn't wasted, also juggling the times around so we don't miss any meals. There were also at least 12 hours on the road in a bus in those two days. I'm proud of our tough group of senior citizens, many of whom are in their 80's, for even attempting such a trip. Some use canes to get around. They don't complain, but you can tell by just looking at them it isn't easy. God bless them for their courage to get on a bus for such a long distance, then get off and walk through places of interest. For their sake, I wish all museums had places available throughout so they could sit down occasionally. That was the only fault I found at the Aviation museum. There are seats in the lobby, but in the exhibit area there's not a single bench or seat.
On another note, I am reading Michelle Obama's book, Becoming. It's been available to check out at the library for some time, but I always breezed past it thinking it might be all about politics. I didn't vote for Obama for president, but I came to admire his behavior while he was in office. Nevertheless, I seemed to be avoiding that book every time I saw it and I finally asked myself, "What are you afraid of?" I checked out the audio version and have been listening to it during my early-morning time before Cliff gets up. What wonderful, hard-working, wise parents Michelle Obama had! Anyone with small children could learn a lot from reading about them. So far, I love her story of her growing-up years; the book may not hold my interest later. That depends on what direction it goes. I'm having problems lately finding any book that suits me.
Cliff is reading his second, or maybe third, Chet and Bernie book. I'd been telling him about these books for ages, but there's no way you can tell anyone they should read books narrated by a dog and get them to take you seriously. All he had to do was read the first one; he was hooked. I advised him not to read them all end to end, because they start to seem too much alike. So right now he's reading some non-fiction book I chose for him. He likes good biographies: His favorite was, I believe, about U. S. Grant... if I have that wrong, I'll come back and change it.
I finally managed to lose the pounds that had accumulated on my body ever since the early part of the year, and even a couple more besides. It's actually easier now than it once was because I just don't want to eat as much as I used to, and some of my tastes have changed with age. I still try my best to help Cliff out, but I refuse to be an enforcer. That only makes me feel as though I'm treating him like a child. I do watch his portions and try to encourage him, and he really does try. It's just hard for him. And of course, as the holidays approach, trying to control what we eat is like getting through a field full of land mines.
It's deer season, so Arick and various of his friends and relatives have been out back hunting each morning and evening. So Gabe and I take our walk along 224 highway, like I did many years ago. But if we walked in the pasture, we'd scare away all the deer that might be in the area; also, we could get shot!
Cliff will get a couple of tests run Tuesday so the cardiologist can figure out whether there's a problem he needs to tend to. He'll do a nuclear stress test, which is how his original problems thirteen years ago were discovered, and also some kind of scan... there are so many different kinds of scans that can be taken, I never know which kind they are talking about. I think I'll find out exactly what it is and write it down while we're there.
Life is short, God is good, and we will do our best to enjoy each day.
Yours truly
Donna
Peace.
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