I am guessing late 60′s? From the left, my dad, my mom, me, my brother DJ and some friends of the family. Minnesota. A hunting party?

Me, EJ and DJ
I wonder if dad made me hold the bird?

…and the fish?

Or if I wanted to?

©2010 The Glass Dragonfly. All Rights Reserved.

My brother and me.
Northfield, Minnesota

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My brother, DJ, and I napping in the car.

Our landlord in Athens

Awesome, homemade polyester outfit! Thank you Grandmother!

With mom on the front steps

Driving through the mountains in Switzerland/Yugoslavia

We spent many days right here, at the beach. Mom is in white.

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www.youtube.com/watch?v=g9G90h-ay2U

It is funny how music can sometimes take you, in an instant,  to a place in your past. Young children, a local pizzeria, a well loved jukebox and the coins, given by mom or dad, to choose songs which invariably always  included “The Lion Sleeps Tonight” each and every visit. The smells, the grease, the family time. It is funny that this song carries the same memories for both of us.

As songs hit the radio, or my iPod, I am often confronted with memories. My high school, this party or that, spending time in my room, driving in my car, or later on, memories of past loves, then playing with Starr as a youngster. I love those connections and memories. More recently, music often takes me to Starr and Sunny together…my memories combined with their high school acivities. Our memories together.  It’s both a blessing and  a curse, I don’t ever want to forget the times we had together, but it is also so very painful to remember them. Life is never simple is it? At Bill’s Pizza it was simple, it was fun. I often wish for a day with that innocence and that simplicity again.

Are there songs that bring you back to a certain place or time? What are they? And where do they take you?

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My brother, DJ, has been asking more and more lately “what’s for dinner?” So, I thought I might include a little postscript once in a while about what was for dinner, a link to the recipe if there was one and maybe a thumbs up or down from Starr.

Last night I made my version of Chicken Panini. Starr loved it and told me so repeatedly. I cooked the chicken using this basic recipe Italian Chicken, only instead of pounding out the chicken breasts, I butterflied them, slicing them in half making thinner portions. Putting the cooked chicken in between two slices of bread along with some mozzarella cheese and grilling them until browned and melty on my grill pan as I don’t own a sandwich press, but I did give the sandwich a good and hard press with my spatula! 

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I suggested the old and reportedly haunted, pioneer graveyard that DJ and I visited a couple months ago. She had been there several times with friends in the middle of the night…the ghost stories are always draw for the teen set…but she always waited in the car. Chicken! A daytime visit was something that she has always wanted to do.

We didn’t find any ghosts, but we did spend quite a bit of time wandering around. Starr enjoyed taking pictures.

We found several pennies placed on the grave markers. Here is an example that I found in Starr’s pictures of one of the headstones. I hadn’t heard of this practice, so I looked it up. Frankly, I’m still not sure, but I did find an interesting discussion about it on a Flickr message board.

A majority of the graves are unmarked. Just a stone, a brick, or a simple cross.

Walking among these markers, it is easy to forget that each one marks the life of a loved one. Whose life may have been long or short, who may have been a baby, a child, a spouse or parent. Just like us. These thoughts lead me back to the question of why. Why? What is the meaning of it all? Life and inevitable death.

Despite these thoughts, it was a good day.

©2010 The Glass Dragonfly. All Rights Reserved.

There is abundant wildlife where my folks live. Deer, antelope, wild turkeys and mountain lions. I haven’t seen a mountain lion yet, but the rest are plentiful.

My dad, DJ and I were standing in the dining room at the sliding glass door looking at the group of deer that were wandering near the house. The “conversation” went a little like this:

Dad: How many do you think are out there?

Me: Another one just came up the hill….so there are eight.

Dad: I see two on the left, one on the right. I can’t tell how many are together in the middle.

Me: There are eight deer.

DJ: I see a new one that just came over the hill. (This is the one I previously remarked on…)

Me: Yeah, there are now eight.

Dad: How many do you think are there?

Me: Eight.

DJ: I’m not sure. *starts counting…one, two…*

Me: There are eight.

Dad: They are all grouped together it’s hard to tell how many there are.

Me: Eight.

DJ: I count eight.

Dad: I think there are eight.

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We made it home late this afternoon. Tired and worn. Facing the messy house that we left last week. In addition to the unpacking, the laundry, all the cleaning that I knew we had to accomplish, I found an unexpected gift in the garage fridge. Nine frozen and exploded sugary sodas! Coke, Pepsi, Sprite…coating the remaining contents and all of the walls of the refrigerator! I’ve kept pop out there for 7 1/2 years for Starr’s friends to use, in all that time, we have never had anything like this happen.

Argh!

After cleaning to the limits of my patience, I too am coated with sticky coke!

Welcome home! It’s good to be back.

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It isn’t always easy to get together on the holiday’s with ex’s, other families and distance to consider. In fact, Starr claims that this is the first time in seven years that we have been able to do it. So…we slide the day over a couple of days to accommodate? Who cares? It doesn’t matter to us!

Growing up, we often had to fit Christmas into dad’s work schedule. As an airline pilot he wasn’t always home at the right time, so instead of celebrating without him, we did it early or late so that the family could be together.

In the meantime, we cook and prep. We look forward to DJ and Racer arriving and spending time together. Take one last trip to the grocery store. Maybe play some cards. Have a glass of wine. Watch the weather, and pray that DJ and Racer stay safe on the road.

**checks the weather report**

**chews fingernails**

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I was very much the same person then that I am today. Show and Tell was pure unadulterated torture. I would much rather watch others. Observing is good, sharing is hard. I often did my own thing, but only in a personal way. I used to write really really tiny, for no other reason than I wanted to. I tried to fit my printing inside the blue lines on my paper. (um, maybe I was trying to hide there in the lines?) Mrs. Ackerman tried to tell me that I couldn’t do that, and I pointed out that I could…easily. I wasn’t trying to talk back, I just didn’t understand. Then she explained that I mustn’t, shouldn’t…just don’t do it! Ah, okay, I see.

  
It was a real estate sign that said Ackerman that unexpectedly brought these memories flooding back to me as I drove past it while running errands this morning. Funny how random things will do that to you!
  

Coincidentally, Starr’s friend Skye is having a First Grade Christmas party this weekend. The guests are invited to dress as they did for their first grade Christmas. Starr actually has the hair bow I made for her back then, we have been using it as a tree ornament for years, and is planning to wear her hair french braided (parted in the middle and braided back on both sides) which was one of my stock styles for her. They are planning to have craft stations to make holiday ornaments, decorate pine cones, etc. Could be fun, I look forward to the pictures!

I was looking for a photograph of me at about six years old in the pile of slides that I have yet to tackle when I found this:
   

Cute, but I don’t see a date on it anywhere. Mom did write Easter in Beeville, Texas on the back but not the year. I would guess that I was 3 or 4ish? Imprompteau costume? But why?
    

Strangely Beautiful

Spring Came, Rain Fell

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