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FOLLOWERS

 I am really sad that some of my family members, friends, good friends, Christian friends, even my best friend, have chosen to follow the Trump train. I am saddened not so much because I disagree with his politics (I actually think some of the policies that were passed during his time in office were positive, though I question how much he actually had to do with them.) I am more saddened by their blind faith in a man that is clearly the antithesis of all they have proclaimed in years passed to hold dear: high morals, a belief in democracy, a conservative agenda, etc. I haven't always agreed with them politically, but it is sad to see people wantonly abandon their own ideals to follow a man who is as illogical, unastute, capricious, erratic, amoral, and clouded by his own power and ego as Trump is. Some people have compared Trump to Hitler. I do not think he is like Hitler en toto. Hitler had a well-thought out albeit flawed and dangerous ideology born over decades, and he had a str...
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WHEN ARE THE GOOD OLD DAYS?

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 It seems I've been hearing more and more people my age talking about the good old days lately. Maybe it's because of the pandemic or maybe it's because we're getting close to (or some of us have tipped over) 70. When I hear that and in the examples they give, it mostly refers to the 1950s. I remember those years. I was born in 1951, and I remember watching Roy Rogers and The Lone Ranger on TV on Saturday afternoons. My Dad was in the Navy and until I was seven, my Mom stayed at home. She started working then as a secretary, a profession she had trained for and in which she had worked for 10+ years before she was married. When we lived in Norfolk, we were just a mile from Oceanview Amusement Park and my friends and I were allowed to walk to the amusement park with an older teen babysitter and ride the rides or go to the beach. I even visited a friend who lived in the apartments on the beach there and we went to the beach alone with her when I was 10. I remember going to...
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A Parent's Sigh

 I was listening to a sermon Sunday and I thought again that I'm not sure that Jesus' dying was the biggest sacrifice to God. It was a sacrifice, that is sure, I'm not denying that, nor am I denying it's perfect symbology in God's perfect story. And for God to watch his son die that cruel death must have been a terrible thing. But God knew that Jesus' death meant Jesus would return to him.  It seems to me the bigger sacrifice was for Jesus to come to earth. God knows what imperfect vessels we are because, after all, he created us. And for him to place His perfect son into an imperfect vessel was certainly a bigger sacrifice in my way of thinking.  In my small human way of creating some kind of analogy, I think about my relationship with my own children. Even thought they are now adults, I am never happier than when they are both under the same roof with me. That hasn't happened for a few years since one lives in Hawaii and one lives in Virginia, but a few ye...
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I SOLEMNLY SWEAR THAT I WILL SUPPORT AND DEFEND...

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 As the "new normal" NFL season is upon us, my Facebook friends have been posting a lot lately (again) on both side of the argument about standing or not standing for the national anthem. I get it. I mean I get both sides.  I didn't back in 2016 when Colin Kaepernick kneeled during the national anthem. I was among the scoffers saying how un-American and disrespectful it was to the flag, to those who served in the military, to our country. I even looked up the US Code 36 § 301 which states: (A) individuals in uniform should give the military salute at the first note of the anthem and maintain that position until the last note; (B) members of the Armed Forces and veterans who are present but not in uniform may render the military salute in the manner provided for individuals in uniform; and (C) all other persons present should face the flag and stand at attention with their right hand over the heart, and men not in uniform, if applicable, should remove their headdress with ...
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I LOVE WINTER

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I love winter, While most people are staying indoors and, when they venture outside, have permanent scowls, I am revealing in this season's beauty. I love the nip in the air, the bright blue skies, the amplified sounds at night, the calm frigid cold as I gaze at the stars, I love seeing the constellation Orion on clear cold nights. I love wearing winter clothes, snuggling under an electric blanket and a quilt at night with my husband. I love drinking hot chocolate and feeling its warmth spread inside me. I love visiting Newport, Rhode Island in winter when one has the mansions and restaurants and hops all to oneself. I love snow (and I know how to drive in it! - a factor of living in both northern Indiana and Iceland). I love ice storms that create magical crystal scenes. I love Christmas and all its trimmings, especially hearing the Salvation Army bell ringing as I make my way into stores. Frankly, I can't imagine traveling South (or farther south) for the winter. In my o...
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Memphis and West Tennessee

In 1994, when I moved to Memphis, TN, to be closer to my Mom, I remember her telling me somewhere along the way that Memphis was not really part of West Tennessee. Of course, being a geographer (and probably argumentative by nature), I argued that of course Memphis was part of West Tennessee. It was, in fact, the western most city in Tennessee. However, now, 23 years later, and as a resident of Jackson, TN, I finally understand what she means. From Union City and Martin to Henderson and Bolivar and Jackson to Paris, the look, feel and demeanor is so different from Memphis and its surrounding bedroom communities. The people are more genteel, the atmosphere is more laid back, the friendliness is more apparent. We love our West Tennessee home.
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HOME-MAKING

OK, Folks, this is going to offend some people... Not much stands out about junior high Home Economics other than 1) the skirt I had to make that my Mom helped me finish, and 2) the Baked Alaska Cyndy Stroud and I made. But I think the things I learned there must have planted seeds somewhere in my subconscious. To their credit, I never remember the teachers saying sexist things (though only girls took HomeEc and only boys took Shop), but I do remember the emphasis being on "making a home" including cooking, sewing, buying bargains and cleaning. And that's what brings me to this post. When I was growing up, Saturday mornings were devoted to cleaning the house. From age 5-12 years, we lived in a 2-bedroom bungalow, so it really didn't take very long. My job was dusting. My Mom vacuumed (and probably a bunch of other stuff) and my Dad mopped the kitchen floor. Also, after every meal, my parents washed and dried the dishes, and put them away in the cabinet. When I got...
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