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I’ve always loved the month of June, and still do. Despite the brilliance of beauty, and new growth that accompanies the month’s arrival, I am always reminded of key loved ones in my life who are no longer with us. Aside from my mother, these four individuals, two uncles, and both grandparents, were major forces in my life, the three men often serving as “dads” in my life.
June 3rd, 2004 – Grandpa Leroy (Leroy Barmes)
June 8th, 1987 – Uncle Ron (Ronald Barmes)
June 27th, 1992 – Grandma Donna (Donna M. Clary – Barmes)
June 29th, 2002 – Uncle Garry (Garry Jolliffe)
But, soon after the rain comes the sun’s brilliant shining once again. The reminders of these tender days often become a reflection of what these four gave me, the lessons they taught, the light they shared. I was, indeed, blessed to have had two of the best grandparents, and two of the very best uncles. Though they are no longer physically present in my world, I am assured that their winged-souls hover near, often reminding me that “they never truly leave us.”
May choirs of angels continue to sing each of you to your eternal rest….
Remembering my uncle, Garry Jolliff, one of my first childhood heroes (1944-2002) who passed away 10 years ago, tomorrow.
Uncle Garry fought in Vietnam, and was severely wounded. Indiana’s US Senator, Birch Bayh, finally succeeded in having Uncle Garry removed from the battlefield where he was left for quite some time. He recovered (or so we thought), and returned to the battlefield. Upon his return, shrapnel was discovered lodged near his spine, and despite countless lengthy surgeries, it could not completely be removed. Before he was even 30, the paralysis had begun, eventually consuming the brave soldier who then became the brave civilian, ravaging a battle against our government that would finally compensate other Vietnam veterans their disability. If I remember correctly, Uncle Gary, paralyzed from the neck down, was only receiving 10% disability!
While Uncle Garry was in Vietnam, we often recorded messages to him on a tape machine to send him. After listening to our messages, he would record for us. Those were exciting times in my childhood, and even more so when he returned home from the battlefield.
While vacationing in Washington, DC, in August 1969, we were seated around a fountain, soaking our tired feet in the cool water very near The Reflecting Pool near the Lincoln Memorial. A group of soldiers appeared, and thinking Uncle Garry might be in the mass of khaki, I excitedly stood to search for him, unaware that the slimy floor of the angled bottom would pull me underwater. My father grabbed me by the shirt, probably saving me from drowning, or experiencing near-drowning.
He was a wonderful uncle, and one who often filled in for his older brother as another dad in my youth. Some of my most fun weekend trips – Reds games, Kings Island, Indiana Beach, fishing, boating – were spent with him!
Rest in peace, Dear Uncle, and may the choirs of angels continue to sing thee to thy rest…
The gentle, cool breeze drifting across the deck is a sly mistress to the impending heat of 100+ degrees that is to arrive shortly. The windows are open for one last breath of fresh air before The Haasienda goes on A/C lockdown. The humidity is attempting to wrestle its way in with the breeze.
In the front yard while watering this morning, a bright yellow Mary Todd day lily greeted me. This bloom is from a second of four plants, and it has a number of anthers surrounding it.
I prepared an omelet this morning with some left-over steak from last night, and a few tea spoons of Bisquik mixed in with the eggs. Wow! One of the best omelets I’ve ever made.
Quintin traveled to Fairfield, Ohio last night with Shawnee Breitenstein, her son, Patrick, who is one of my students, and one of Quintin’s godparents, Aaron Jacobs. They ventured South to see a DCI (Drum Corps International) competition, slating several fine ensembles to battle it out. Quintin had never seen a drum & bugle corps, save what I’ve shown him on You Tube. He returned home with no comments, and a few of my questions received simple answers. Hopefully, today, he will be more talkative.
Last night I discovered a note on my Facebook business page from one of the Drama-Keepers who doesn’t seem to know where her life stops, and mine begins. The other pests raised their voice of concern, and admonition, yet I am sure their one off-spring has failed to report to the parental units that they attempted to “friend me” recently on Twitter, and several months ago on Facebook. The individual expressed that I was to steer clear of them, yet, they are the ones stalking me via this blog, or attempting to “friend me” on social sites when they led the charge last fall to de-friend me. The fierce-talking ogre needs to stop pushing weight around with me, and keep his own line in check to make sure they leave me – and my family – alone.
Last week, someone decided to post something regarding a visit with me that was quite untrue. However, the Drama-Committee, that enjoys serenading me in their Christian-covered guises, took the person’s claim at face-value, and chimed in. The one Drama Queen, who has high levels of nutty toxicity and wrote me the note last night, even went so far as to post about me on her Facebook page. I can remember this neurotic mess sitting in my living room and telling her son, “there are always two sides to a situation, and S__, don’t you get involved unless you know both sides.” Clearly, she’s forgotten the instructions she insisted her son follow.
These sad individuals will always dine at the drama buffet, pretending to be the hands and feet of Christ, yet, in reality, they are merely drama-excrement. While I am going about my business, they will always continue to be “hidden stirrers” because it is the only way they know how to attempt to burrow beyond their holes of imprisonment.
Que sera… sera…
Tonight, I will teach two make-up lessons, and then will only have one day of teaching until Monday, June 9th! My free time to write, and accomplish a few household chores. Our friend, Snickers, will come to stay with us for a week while his family retreats to a Canadian island for a much needed break.
“You know, if you’re going to stalk someone, you should be less obvious. For starters, try not to standing in the middle of a field, gawking at your prey.” – Kristin Walker, A Match Made in High School
Most soulish believers assume an attitude of self-righteousness, though often it is scarcely detectable. They hold tenaciously to their minute opinions we ought to lay aside the small differences and pursue the common objective. – Watchman Nee
Friday’s fun adventures in Indiana seemed to continue through yesterday, and perhaps, today. It is so nice having Quintin home, and it feels so good to be laughing (out loud) at the things he says.
Saturday morning, I hurried up to ACTION Adoption to take photographs of the remodeling project, and then decided, at the last minute, to visit Wegerzyn Gardens – Five Rivers MetroPark. If you live in The Miami Valley, this is something you really need to visit. Had I not been so anxious to get to the pow wow, I would have stayed longer.
Darin’s photos of Wegerzyn Gardens
At Noon, Quintin and I headed four miles over to SunWatch Indian Village: Darin’s previous blog entry & photos. It was a fantastic time, and Quintin seemed to enjoy himself. In the 18 months he has been here, he has not been very communicative about his heritage. However, the past several months he has been more open. At the pow wow, I asked him questions, and he seemed eager to share responses, and offer more information.
We returned home to let the dogs out. Abby Tarlano is staying with us this week, and she is always such a nice blend to The Haasienda.
By 7:00pm we were en route to the Dayton Mall area to watch DARK SHADOWS. I had heard/read mixed reviews, but Quintin and I, both, enjoyed the movie. Afterward, we hit Applebees for a late dinner.
There are no plans on the docket today, and I will wait to see what Quinny wants to do.
“The self-righteous never apologize.” – Leonard Ravenhill
I took about 30 minutes to stroll through Wegerzyn Gardens on Siebenthaler in North Dayton. Such a beautiful, tranquil setting!
If you live in The Miami Valley, go visit this place!
If you have guests visiting, take them there!
This afternoon we ventured a few miles over to SunWatch Indian Village to enjoy a traditional pow wow sponsored by The Miami Valley Council for Native Americans. What a neat afternoon. A modern pow wow is a specific type of event where both Native American and non-Native American people meet to dance, sing, socialize, and honor American Indian culture.
As a child, we often traveled down to the Great Smokey Mountains and paid a visit to Cherokee, North Carolina’s reservation. I was always enthralled with the ceremonies shared by the Cherokee tribe, and loved receiving one of those stretched-rubber tom-toms and headdress, as well as leather moccasins from one of the local stores.
Since his arrival, Quintin has been slow to offer information regarding life on the reservation, or shed any light on his Navajo heritage. The past few months he has volunteered a few shreds of information. As we drove the several miles to SunWatch Indian Village, Quintin did comment, “I hope they have fry bread. My grandma use to make it and it is so good.” This was not the first time he mentioned frybread, and how much he loved eating it.
After watching a number of ceremonial dances we decided to grab something to eat, and sure enough, there was a booth with frybread (several booths, actually). We first got bread with honey, and it was delicious. Later we got the frybread tacos – wow! That hit the spot.
It was really a wonderful afternoon, and as it turned out, Quintin was not the only Navajo Indian present. One of the flutists was from the Navajo reservation, and Quinny was really taken with his music.
Approximately 40 years ago, my grandparents took me to Indianapolis to visit the Indiana War Memorial, and we rode an elevator to the top of The Soldiers & Sailors Monument‘s observation deck.
Today, with just fifteen minutes to spare, Quintin and I traveled to the monument’s deck, and took in the sites of Indianapolis, one of my favorite cities since childhood. Since I am approximately the same age as my grandparents when they took me to the monument, I decided that we should descend the monument via the very long staircase as my grandparents and I did so long ago.
It was nice to retrace steps of a fond memory involving two of my favorite folks.
Before leaving the city, Quintin and I dined at Shapiro’s Deli, one of my favorite haunts when visiting the city.
Quintin and I left the Indianapolis Zoo a little after 3:00pm, and headed over to Delaware Street to the Home of President Benjamin Harrison, our nation’s 23rd president who was an Indiana citizen.
This was my third visit to the Home of President Benjamin Harrison, and his wife, Caroline Scott Harrison. Our docent, Bob, was very good, and very thorough with the right balance of information. What I appreciated most was that he did not editorialize by offering his opinion as so many guides do, especially those associated with the National Park Service at the Lincoln home in Springfield, Illinois. The tour was, to me, one of the best I’ve attended in years.
Benjamin Harrison was born on his father’s farm in North Bend, Ohio, and moved to Indianapolis when he was 21. Benjamin’s great-grandfather signed the Declaration of Independence, and his grandfather, William Henry Harrison was our 9th president; his father represented Ohio in the US House of Representatives. Benjamin Harrison, prior to assuming the presidency, was a distinguished officer in the Civil War, and a United States Senator.
Please follow the link to more information on this president’s life, and public service; Harrison’s contributions are sorely overlooked, and underestimated.
The Harrison Home history was quite fascinating, as outlined by Bob. I felt I learned more about the house, the man, and the family on this tour than on my previous two. I am convinced, after today’s tour, President Harrison’s home is right at the top of the list of presidential homes due to the tremendous amount of authentic items within the home. Bob presented a superb picture of Benjamin Harrison, the man, without embellishment, or suggestions of sainthood. And, I learned that one of Harrison’s granddaughters is still living! How neat is that?
On the third floor, in what was once a ballroom, is a collection of political memorabilia, with a very nice tribute to Wendell L. Willkie who was born, and raised in my home town of Elwood, Indiana. Willkie, a Republican living in Rushville, Indiana, ran against incumbent Franklin Roosevelt in the 1940 presidential election. I was quite proud of my hometown-roots connection to this man, and grateful to the Harrison home staff for establishing a prominent display in the museum.
The City of Indianapolis should be very proud of this historical gem! As a native Hoosier, I am quite taken with this connection to one of our celebrated state-citizens.
I left Dayton at 8:05am, and arrived in Indianapolis at 9:45am. Destin had let me know they arrived much earlier than their anticipated 10:00am arrival. I had memorized my exits, streets, and turns, and replied I would be there right at 10:00am as discussed earlier in the week.
Well…
The exits were not available due to construction, or just not there as noted on Google Maps.
After four stops to request directions, one from a police officer who worked in a completely different neighborhood, I found myself no closer to the zoo. In fact, the officer’s directions took me in a complete circle. I was getting a bit frustrated, and agitated. Finally, I decided to head downtown toward Washington Street since I knew exactly where it was, and ignore all the previous instructions directing me to the street. Within a few minutes, I was pulling into the zoo’s parking lot. However, once in the zoo, I could not locate the family’s location because there were no markers directing visitors to the various areas, and the map simply was not clear. I was not impressed with this portion of the zoo visit.
Before long, I was hugging Quintin, who I had not seen in two weeks, and my beautiful niece and nephews. My grumpiness and tension headache began subsiding.
We had a delightful three to four hours at the zoo, and of course, I had my camera.
This was Suzanne’s desert at dinner tonight. Suzanne, Aaron and I had a great dinner at The Cheesecake Factory.
I’ve always found it interesting that some of my friends who push Bible quotes the most are the least likely to apply the thought behind the quote. They, do, however, stress that others follow the rules laid out in scripture.
This one has always been the one I see as the most violated:
MATTHEW 7…
“Do not judge, or you too will be judged. 2 For in the same way you judge others, you will be judged, and with the measure you use, it will be measured to you.
3 “Why do you look at the speck of sawdust in your brother’s eye and pay no attention to the plank in your own eye? 4 How can you say to your brother, ‘Let me take the speck out of your eye,’ when all the time there is a plank in your own eye? 5 You hypocrite, first take the plank out of your own eye, and then you will see clearly to remove the speck from your brother’s eye.
There are several women, no longer those with whom I elect to associate (they do some really cruel things to others, and are extremely judgmental), who seem to use their religion to conceal their self-righteous attitudes. While still friends with them I was observing a number of behaviors that seemed to be in conflict with what they preached to others, especially their children. In some ways it is very sad because one woman deals with emotional issues, while the other battles extreme weight. I guess I thought this would lead them to be more compassionate, yet, it has worked just the opposite for them.
Both individuals believe it is their duty to solve everyone else’s problems, or point out what others are doing wrong (in their eyes). Quite often, they do not even know the truth about situations, only what they are told, or especially, what they wish to believe.
I doubt they will ever cease these common behaviors as they always must control situations, and others, while continually attempting to mask their true agendas. Both women have left several churches when it becomes clear other parishioners, even church staff, are not going to oblige their soft-shelled bullying. And these women definitely are bullies.
Thankfully, even as college students and teenagers, their own children are not as devious. However, they are being trained by good masters…
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It’s been a quiet, relaxing day. Some of the commercials and cards indicate, through artwork, that dads should be relaxing, eating breakfast in bed, and doing whatever pleases them. I woke early, and by 8:00am, was busy creating more wooden barriers for the backyard to protect plants, mainly my hosta field. The plan originated around 6:00pm the previous evening, and I completed a front row of short fencing to guard the hosta field. However, I had enough wood left over that I created a complete barrier, and a free-standing fence for one of my other plants that Navi seems to favor. I also purchased a large tub to plant flowers, and transplant some items growing poorly in other areas of the yard. Following a shower, and some attention to a nice blister on the palm of my hand, I devoured my lunch, did some odds and ends around the house, and took, what I thought would be an hour long nap… sadly, I slept 2 additional hours. I was hoping to head down to Carillon Park to hear the summer band comprised of high school students. Upon waking I was disappointed that the much promised, much needed rain, had not arrived. Within twelve minutes, the skies broke loose with a short, torrential soaking! The air is crisp, and clean smelling, and the cool breeze maintains a constant “ssshhhhh” as the leaves dance along with the accompaniment of the wind chimes on my deck. I don’t believe the evening will be anything exciting. Quintin continues to have a great time with our family in Fowler, Indiana, and will return Friday. Happy Father’s Day to all those who have served as role models, and inspired me throughout the years. More work in the back yard. Built some barriers to keep the dogs from destroying some of my plants, and especially, the hosta field.
My Mary Todd daylily is set to bloom, again, and I suspect tomorrow will be the day. I am so pleased with the look of the yard. Some work to do around the fire pit, but for now, it feels very comfortable.
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