The Haasienda on Shroyer…

It’s moving in on 10:30 AM and I feel well rested for the day which includes a meeting, some minimal housecleaning, and watching drum and bugle corps compete at Centerville High School’s SOARING SOUNDS. The weather is cooperating, and we’ve just reached 73 degrees with nine more to go. Some evenings, the drum corps attendance has been miserable with highs in the 90s.

Facebook memories reminded me that four years ago, today, the photo of me holding Mother’s hand, three days before her passing, was taken. Mother woke from her frequent nodding off and reached over to take my hand. For me, this moment which I captured with my cell phone, was our true final farewell, the compact that all would be well, and I needed to march onward into this new chapter.

We had ceased taking selfies with her as the physical deterioration was more evident. Her lovely smile never faded, and it seemed to be the only remaining trace of her recognizable features; even her dancing, smiling eyes had worn into oblivion, only offering a hint of their former self when my sister or I spoke to her upon Mother stirring from constant sleep.

I miss Mother, but the grief has become a passageway in my own life’s journey. I carry with me her beautiful memory, the life lessons she instilled, and all the laughter we shared. Life goes on.

I need to prepare for my meeting and then return home to grab some rest to keep my strength fresh for the evening activities.

Make it a great day!

At Noon, this beautiful Thursday, the temperature has nearly hit its high point of 85 degrees. Two more degrees to go.

Last night, still feeling a bit dejected for missing the drum corps contest, I left the deck and turned in at 9:30 PM. Nothing I could find in the way of a documentary or reading material could satisfy me. I woke this morning to find my adaptors still in place to charge my seven camera batteries. For events like SOARING SOUNDS or other marching events, I typically use five batteries and take 400+ photographs.

Today, Col. Deeds has turned nine months old and has officially been a part of The Haasienda for six months. In two weeks, Erma will celebrate her fifth GOTCHA DAY with us. It seems like she has always been with us but she is the only pooch I have not had within the first two or three months of birth.

I have posted poems several times a week with my morning MAKE IT A GREAT DAY blogs. But the truth be known, I am not a true fan of poetry. I appreciate and marvel at a poet’s ability to capture concise passages, but it’s not one of my top favorite genres.

I love art despite not knowing much about the masters of old, or even modern art. So, I will offer a painting that strikes me, along with a description of the artwork and the artist. Who knows? I might even homogenize the mornings with art, music, poetry, and videos of dance.

Meditation, 1902; Elizabeth Nourse

Elizabeth Nourse (October 26, 1859 – October 8, 1938) was a realist-style genre, portrait, and landscape painter born in Mt. Healthy, Ohio, in the Cincinnati area. She also worked in decorative painting and sculpture. Described by her contemporaries as “the first woman painter of America” and “the dean of American woman painters in France and one of the most eminent contemporary artists of her sex,” Nourse was the first American woman to be voted into the Société Nationale des Beaux-Arts. She also had the honor of having one of her paintings purchased by the French government and included in the Luxembourg Museum’s permanent collection. Nourse’s style was described by Los Angeles critic Henry J. Seldis as a “forerunner of social realist painting.” Some of Nourse’s works are displayed at the Cincinnati Art Museum. Source Wikipedia

Make it a great day!

Thursday, August 3rd, Col. Deeds will be 9 months old. And it is the 6 month anniversary of his GOTCHA DAY at The Haasienda.

It’s definitely not the evening I anticipated the past several days but I’m comfortable and enjoying the breeze on the deck, and especially, the loving attention from The FabFive.

For a week, I’ve been excited to attend the annual SOARING SOUNDS drum corps competition with Jim & Debbie McCutcheon.

I first visited Centerville High School for the still fairly new SOARING SOUNDS contest with Rick and some Ball State University college friends in 1984. I’m thirty-nine years, I’ve only missed the contest in 2019 when Mother was dying, 2020 due to Covid, and tonight due to my body just not cooperating.

Toward the end of my Noon-1 PM meeting, I began feeling gut pain and the rest of my body was riddled with MS-related aching. My hands were stiff and sore, barely able to bend. By 1:30 PM I was curled up in my bed with Bailey, Harrigan, and Col. Deeds attending me with snuggles and affection. At 4 PM, I knew it was impossible to attend the event and contacted Jim and Debbie.

At 7 PM, I rose and moved to the chaise lounge on the deck, The Quintet dancing with delight that Dad was spending time on the deck with them. It’s a beautiful evening with mild temperature and a sweet breeze. However, I’d rather be seated in the Centerville HS stadium. My favorite group, the Cavaliers, are performing and they are to offer the final stand-alone performance on the track following the competition.

The evening has been busy with folks and dogs walking along Shroyer Road and Rockhill Avenue. The Kettering Fairmont Marching Band is on the high school’s backfield as they finish up the third day of marching band camp. Two semis parked and running in the high school parking lot next to the house. Chief, Erma, Bailey, and Harrigan are lounging about the deck while Col. Deeds devotes his time to patrolling the yard from the top of the deck.

Many of my fun activities have been drastically reduced and I’m okay with that. However, this was one event to which I was looking forward. I’ve been pacing myself and resting a bit more in anticipation for SOARING SOUNDS. For several hours I was in a foul mood with the change in plans. I’ve turned my attitude and mood around. It’s a beautiful evening.

C

We have toppled over the halfway mark for 2023 as we finish up these last two days of July. I remember thinking in April that 2023 was speedily marching along but now we have five months remaining. In a little less than two months, I shall hit the age of fifty-nine, thus beginning my sixtieth year.

Saturday’s event for Dayton Live was a show called A WRINKLE IN TIME, a production that was part of the education department’s summer camp series. I did not get to see the show but it seemed to be popular with the two audiences at 1 PM and 5 PM.

My work was completed a bit earlier than the anticipated 8 PM finish, so I grabbed a Lyft ride to my home rather than waiting until 8:15 PM. I was home by 7:15 PM instead of 8:35 PM. I relished that one hour of additional time to relax on the deck with the pooches. I munched on some vegetables with brown dip and some chips and salsa, a light, refreshing dinner on the deck with much more agreeable temperatures.

This evening I will meet two new voice students who are to take over the hour slot vacated by a senior who is off to college. All the musicals are over, and family vacations are coming to an end. Now, it is marching band season, but those students involved have Sunday lessons so there will be no interference.

The temperatures are expected to rise to the mid-eighties this week and rain is not shown on the list until Wednesday. As always, I am wrestling with when to mow the yard.

BOURGAINVILLEA

Tough and hardy, this bushy shrub;

Roadside decor in blazing sun,

Flowers pretty enough no doubt

In sure rigour bear heatwave run.

Blazing colours in crystal tints:

Orange and red, purple and pink;

Range of flavours, violet-white hints;

Touch unafraid such tensile links.

Flowery bursts in hot weather, Sparkle and shine, blooming clusters;

Tough with dry thirst in warm splendour,

Outlook feels fine in sheer wonder.

Hot evergreen with thorny hedge,

Sparkling colours that look so good;

Nature now seen on dusty edge,

Arid odours as harsh drought broods.

Unnoticed show that bears hot heat,

Blooming in hues that gathers lots;

Bear fast or slow as time retreats,

Flowers that cue in sun drenched plots.

Bourgainvillea vines in the sun

Tell a story of survival;

See joy appear in sparkling run,

Flowers breezy in recital.

Leon Enriquez; 14 Apr 2014; Singapore

Make it a great day!

Friday was wearisome with the heat and life-sucking humidity. There were two brief showers in my neck of the woods and threats the remainder of the day. I shouldn’t dare complain of what I consider misery when folks out west are the ones truly living with misery.

Sometime this morning after 4 AM, a thunderstorm moved through but I do not recall being disturbed by it. I wasn’t sure it had rained until I woke at 6:15 AM to see the wet deck and hear some rain still falling.

This morning, I will traipse downtown to the PNC Annex, a part of the Dayton Live performance collective where I’ll house manage an event from 10 AM until 8 PM. It will be a long day but I shall have enough to keep me occupied when I’m on some down time.

Sunday, I will be busy from morning until 2 PM with an hour break before teaching until 11 PM. The remainder of the week is mildly occupied and my hope is to accomplish much in the way of research and story plotting.

Someone asked if I am gone from home a lot. I am not unless I am downtown to house manage an event. I do occasionally shuttle downtown to my favorite Chinese buffet haunt but that’s only once a week. Going to The Neon is not as frequent as it once was. I enjoy my privacy and quiet at home with the pooches until it’s time to get the blast of activity with students on Sundays, Mondays, and Tuesdays.

Today is the tenth anniversary of Flyer’s passing. What an incredible dog she was. Even with the quintet that shares my life now, I still miss Flyer.

The mugginess is increasing and becoming a bit much. But, it’s time to get ready for downtown.

Make it a great day!

I slept well but I cannot decide. It’s now 7 AM and I don’t feel tired, but I am experiencing the post-awakening fog.

At 6:30 AM, it is 75 degrees, stifling, and the air is heavy, unmoving like a large marble sculpture. I am uncomfortable. Rain showers and thunderstorms are in the forecast but, as in previous days, this could change rapidly and radically.

There is really nothing more to report. It’s Friday. It’s steamy. It’s unpleasant. Still, I shall endeavor to make it a great day.

THE WOMAN WHO TURNED DOWN A DATE WITH A CHERRY FARMER

By Aimee Nezhukumatathil, Fredonia, NY

Of course I regret it. I mean there I was under umbrellas of fruit so red they had to be borne of Summer, and no other season. Flip-flops and fishhooks. Ice cubes made of lemonade and sprigs of mint to slip in blue glasses of tea. I was dusty, my ponytail all askew and the tips of my fingers ran, of course, red from the fruitwounds of cherries I plunked into my bucket and still—he must have seen some small bit of lovelinessin walking his orchard with me. He pointed out which trees were sweetest, which ones bore double seeds—puffing out the flesh and oh the surprise on your tongue with two tiny stones (a twin spit), making a small gun of your mouth. Did I mentionmy favorite color is red? His jeans were worn and twisty around the tops of his boot; his hands thick but careful, nimble enough to pull fruit from his trees without tearing the thin skin; the cherry dust and fingerprints on his eyeglasses. I just know when he stuffed his hands in his pockets, said Okay. Couldn’t hurt to try? and shuffled back to his roadside stand to arrange his jelly jars and stacks of buckets, I had made a terrible mistake. I just know my summer would’ve been full of pies, tartlets, turnovers—so much jubilee.

It’s Hump Day, the last one for July 2023.

Last night, it was finally comfortable to sit on the deck by 8 PM which I did after my Walmart groceries were delivered and put away. I was on my bedroom watching a documentary at 10 PM but returned to the deck at 11 PM to enjoy the night’s coolness. I love sitting on the deck, listening to the night sounds. There was no concert at The Fraze Pavilion across the street so the sounds of traffic were very limited.

The front yard could use some attention with the mower before our next day of promised rain. Wednesday, Thursday; or Friday are my options as I skirt about house manager needs Wednesday and Thursday afternoon and evening, and then for ten hours on Saturday.

Donny Osmond takes the stage at The Fraze, tomorrow, and I’m grateful I’m scheduled downtown at The Victoria Theatre. I love his sister, Marie Osmond, but I cannot stomach Donny, especially after seeing him on stage as Joseph in JOSEPH AND THE AMAZING TECHNICOLOR DREAMCOAT. The musical is a romp but Mr. Osmond always out performer his basic brand of cheesiness.

The meme I’m attaching to this post is spot on for me. Change is uncomfortable only when we allow it to be uncomfortable. If we embrace change as something exciting and needed, our journey is often less troublesome. If we don’t allow our buffet tables to swap out different dishes, we continue to feast on the same items over and over.

Make it a great day!

It is muggy and overcast, and thunderstorm threats loom within a few hours. After feeding the FabFive at 6:30 AM, I took my pillow to the deck and slept for another three hours in the cool breeze. Last night, upon my return from house managing an event at Victoria Theatre, I stayed on the deck with the pooches as the southern-borne winds pushed northward. It was pretty relaxing.

Last night’s event at Victoria Theatre was the release of a fascinating documentary regarding yet another episode in innovation, advancement, and being ahead in the race that has been prevalent in Dayton, Ohio for over one hundred fifty years. From the program notes:

“Connected follows the seemingly impossible separation of conjoined twins, Pedro and Augusto. 

The nearly 5-year-old boys came to Dayton Children’s from Guatemala in July 2021 joined at the top of the head with a 90-degree turn, classified as craniopagus O’Connell class III.

The condition is incredibly rare with an estimated 50 craniopagus twins born every year, with only an estimated 15 of those surviving more than a few months.

The documentary chronicles the two years that surgeons and staff spent preparing and executing the series of separation surgeries for this rare and complex condition.”

Over four hundred invited guests were taken on this journey with a talkback from those involved following the hour-long film. I did not get to watch the film, but I caught some of the talkback. Beyond impressive. On the balcony level were exhibits of the practice procedures and models of the two infant boys’ heads and brains.

This is the link to the documentary: Dayton Children’s Hospital – CONNECTED.

I have coasted into my day and am rather enjoying it. However, I need to accomplish a few items.

Make it a great day!

I cannot believe we are already moving into the last full week of July 2023. The year is half over.

The overcast morning is hovering at 64 degrees for the moment and anticipates mastering 84 degrees with possible showers throughout the afternoon. In ten minutes, the entire day’s forecast may change, and do so until 11:59 PM. Ohio weather is predictably unpredictable.

There is little to report. My week is looming with activity and long hours downtown for house managing events. While it can be tiring, I am not on my feet the entire time and there is little moving around.

A Bird Song

Christina Rossetti  1830 – 1894

It’s a year almost that I have not seen her:

Oh, last summer green things were greener,

Brambles fewer, the blue sky bluer.

It’s surely summer, for there’s a swallow:

Come one swallow, his mate will follow,

The bird race quicken and wheel and thicken.

Oh happy swallow whose mate will follow

O’er height, o’er hollow! I’d be a swallow,

To build this weather one nest together.

Make it a great day!

Ten years ago, today, Mother arrived from Indiana to spend some time with her favorite furry gal, Flyer, as she was nearing the end. In all, 75+ individuals would come to bid farewell to this incredible dog. Two former students who’d never met while growing up in Dayton, discovered their connection to me and Flyer via Facebook reports. They met up and drove down from Bowling Green State University, together. They’ve been best friends ever since.

Chief never left Flyer’s side.

The day is nice but very overcast.

Col. Deeds has snuggled with me as my body unwinds from the tension of the recent days of rain. He’s quite the comforter.

There’s very little to report; just an average day.

Make it a great day.

It’s just now 9:45 AM and the morning has already had a trip up.

I decided to take No. 17 South to the nearby Kroger to grab a few things but just as I stepped off the bus it occurred to me I had not brought my wallet. Fortunately, I checked the bus schedule before walking the .09 mile back home. Lo and behold, there was a northbound bus to arrive in five minutes. The next southbound bus is at 10:20 AM so I’ve not wasted much time. The FabFive will be happily confused by my return and sudden departure. 

Fortunately, Sundays are free bus rides, so I didn’t waste four dollars going and coming. 

At 10 AM, seated on the deck until the next southbound bus arrives, I am enjoying the slight breeze and can hear the swish of traffic from Shroyer Road. In the distance, I can hear several birds singing their morning hymn.

In my pocket is Col. Deeds’ collar so I can compare it to the next size up at the pet store. He’s an affectionate, still clumsy, and intelligent little fellow with so boundaries for leaning against me, jumping on top of me when I am in bed, and snuggling tightly next to me. The Colonel is still at the chewing age despite all his toys and chewables. Three dog beds have now had their insides revealed and have been trashed. Potty training is hit or miss, which is still frustrating. 

My teaching schedule for today is all over the place with students in shows, on vacations or participating in marching band. Tomorrow’s schedule is more of the same as many marching band camps kick into gear. I will be spending a good amount of time downtown, this week, as there are a number of House‎ managing events taking place. 

I’ve now been re-deposited at Kroger, and I am ready to finally begin my morning shopping adventures.

Westminster Presbyterian Church, downtown Dayton, was nicely filled with family and invited friends who were gathered to remember and celebrate the extraordinary life of Jeff Clark.

I’m still astounded by what Jeff managed to accomplish in just under twenty-five years as a choir director, show choir director, musical theatre director, clinician, adjudicator, and arranger. Yet, I’m not all that surprised. I met Jeff as a Fairmont High School freshman in 1994 and it was only a matter of time before he began to demonstrate what he could do and where he was heading.

For almost thirty years, I witnessed Jeff’s remarkable journey. I personally felt the rippled rings from the pebbles he often cast into the waters of life and observed how those waves touched thousands of lives. Oh, to have been a student under Mr. Clark and to experience the day-to-day passion he lovingly shared.

The music was beautiful, and the minister’s message was tender and poignant; I could listen to it, again. Then there was the slide show produced by his sister, Danielle, who was one of my third grade elves for the Christmas 1994 production. The photos were touching, especially those that showed Uncle Jeff with his two nephews. Having been blessed with several doting uncles, I could see those young sons of Danielle also had the best of uncles.

Today was Jeff’s earthly coda, but his musical masterpiece will resonate and echo for many years to come. I feel blessed to have watched this production close up and from afar.

It was a damned good show, Jeff, and I’m eternally grateful.

Jeff Clark’s obituary: https://www.hodappfuneralhome.com/obituaries/jeffrey-clark

12:35 AM, Friday: Our power, after several hours, has been restored following the mighty storm that impeded the still and quiet of The Miami Valley. There was much lightning and a lot of loud, snapping thunder, some of which sounded and felt like bombs going off. The house became a little uncomfortably warm but nothing to compare with those who have no cool air moving through their homes. I’m blessed. And I am grateful for those brave souls who brave the elements to restore power and do other things to make our lives easier. 6:50 AM, Friday: The morning air is cool and damp at 64 degrees and 76 degrees is the expected high for the day. Since childhood, I have always been a tad fearful of storms, especially strong thunderstorms.  My grandfather would pace the floors, much like his mother, Thelma Daugherty Barmes, who was terrified of storms. I am guessing I was supplied with this fear from those scenarios. Mother and Grandma Donna paid them little attention and showed no anxiety about standing by the windows or doors. My mind has always allowed these lyrics from an Elvis Presley album to boost my courage during storms: “‘Til the storm passes over,
‘Til the thunder sounds no more;
‘Til the clouds roll forever from the sky,
Hold me fast, let me stand,
In the hollow of Thy hand;
Keep me safe ’til the storm passes by.” And this storm did pass by. Now, it’s time to get the day moving along. Make it a great day!

It’s 9:10 PM on Friday evening. This week, while endlessly dragging on, rushed by. I feel like I accomplished quite a bit, including mowing the yard on Thursday before the rain sat in. I also managed to accommodate my body with a good deal of rest.

At 6:15 PM, I grabbed No. 17 oh to eat at one of my favorite haunts. I grabbed quite a few pet toys and treats from Walmart. Toys are easily ripped apart and long-term treats devoured quickly. Hopefully, this newer batch will last a bit longer.

At 1 PM, Saturday afternoon, a celebration of life will be held for my former student, Jeff Clark. I’m sure it will be an incredible and moving experience.

I really want to go see the new Barbie movie. I may put that on my agenda for Saturday evening. 

While I wait on the southbound bus back to Shroyer Road, the Miller lane area is hopping with traffic and energy from those in town for the Dayton Airshow. I’ve only been to one airshow in the 33 years that I’ve lived here. 

Earlier today, it was announced that the legendary music artist, Tony Bennett, died at age 96. What a remarkable talent that spanned decades. 

Bus No. 17 is making its way south on North Dixie Drive and I should be home by 10:10 PM. It’s been a fine day.

12:35 AM, Friday: Our power, after several hours, has been restored following the mighty storm that impeded the still and quiet of The Miami Valley.

There was much lightning and a lot of loud, snapping thunder, some of which sounded and felt like bombs going off. The house became a little uncomfortably warm but nothing to compare with those who have no cool air moving through their homes. I’m blessed. And I am grateful for those brave souls who brave the elements to restore power and do other things to make our lives easier.

6:50 AM, Friday: The morning air is cool and damp at 64 degrees and 76 degrees is the expected high for the day.

Since childhood, I have always been a tad fearful of storms, especially strong thunderstorms. My grandfather would pace the floors, much like his mother, Thelma Daugherty Barmes, who was terrified of storms. I am guessing I was supplied with this fear from those scenarios. Mother and Grandma Donna paid them little attention and showed no anxiety about standing by the windows or doors.

My mind has always allowed these lyrics from an Elvis Presley album to boost my courage during storms:

“‘Til the storm passes over,
‘Til the thunder sounds no more;
‘Til the clouds roll forever from the sky,
Hold me fast, let me stand,
In the hollow of Thy hand;
Keep me safe ’til the storm passes by.”

And this storm did pass by. Now, it’s time to get the day moving along.

Make it a great day!

Our precious girl, AKS “Our Lady of the Spoons,” Erma is fourteen years old today.

All the pooches are sweet and loving but Erma takes loving to a whole new level and seals the deal.

Happy birthday, Precious Old Girl…

Make it a great day!

At 6:40 AM, the temperature is a muggy 67 degrees and shall meet 85 degrees as I begin my teaching day.

Sleep came easily to me at 10 PM, Saturday evening, but after a bathroom break at 2:15 AM, I was forever robbed of the remaining four hours of sleep. There will be no naps and I fear the day will be intolerable no matter how great I strive to make it. My body is just weighed down with fatigue.

One-hundred forty one years ago, Mary Lincoln, wife of President Abraham Lincoln, passed away in the home of her sister, Elizabeth, in Springfield, Illinois.  While her earthly woes and struggles ceased, the severe scrutiny of her life has continued. Even in 2023, we find First Lady Mary Lincoln a matter of debate.

“Over hill, over dale –” from A Midsummer Night’s Dream 

by William Shakespeare

A wood near Athens. A Fairy speaks. 

Over hill, over dale, 
Thorough bush, thorough brier, 
Over park, over pale, 
Thorough flood, thorough fire
I do wander every where, 
Swifter than the moon’s sphere; 
And I serve the fairy queen, 
To dew her orbs upon the green: 
The cowslips tall her pensioners be; 
In their gold coats spots you see; 
Those be rubies, fairy favours, 
In those freckles live their savours: 
I must go seek some dew-drops here 
And hang a pearl in every cowslip’s ear. 
Farewell, thou lob of spirits: I’ll be gone; 
Our queen and all her elves come here anon.

On with the day.

Make it a great day!

It is an overcast Monday morning but comfortable and not muggy. It’s the birthday of my dear friend, Jeff Carter, and two cousins, Scott Cleaver and Jessica Richardson Driver.

Today’s weather will be, as it has been the past twenty-four hours, a surprise buffet. We were to have storms pass through last night, but they bypassed the Miami Valley. Today? Who knows? It does say we shall reach 81 degrees. My weather app just alerted me that there are potential thunderstorms this afternoon.

Yesterday, I accomplished one entire email to a friend. More than a dozen or more to go. But one is completed, and it received an immediate response. All Sunday, I was exhausted and could not locate my energy button. I did manage to accomplish a good deal of research, something that has been rather sporadic the past few months. Sunday afternoon and evening was a shortened teaching schedule due to students in shows, but I felt the success of those with whom I got to work.

I was in bed by 10 PM, and I suppose I slept well as I feel refreshed; however, the grumps settled in, sometime through the night, and I have not shed them as of 7 AM. I guess I already have one goal on my list for today. The FabFive has either adopted my grumpiness or something is in the air as they have been bickering and fighting over tiny things this morning. Erma just tore after The Colonel for walking too close to her! The Old Girl turns fourteen this next week but she has tons of spunk.

On with the day…

“When we get to the beach”

By Hollie McNich

i screamed
sprinted to the sea
flung off shoes and socks
ran towards imagined heaving waves
and jumped each tiny trickle that I found there
with just the same excitement

you stayed back
took your socks off more timidly
giggled at your stupid mother
eventually took my hand

we jumped together
and we jumped together
and we jumped together

three hours later
collapsing on our backs
we made angels in the sand

the seaside always made me
want to scream

now
with you
i can

Make it a great day!

It is cloudy but there are no expectations of rain for the day. In fact, we may not even crack the eighty degrees mark.

Yesterday, I had students who turned into tigers, tackling concepts and stepping outside the box that outlined their comfort zone. I could tell they were proud of their efforts. One student, who battles ADHD, is learning how to make his ADHD and music work for him rather than the ADHD working against him. I was elated.

I had a planning session for an upcoming event which I will attend this weekend and then my night was completed early, allowing me to enjoy about thirty minutes on the deck before the rain set in.

Apathy seems to be creeping into my attitude. I am unsure if it is to do with the natural aging process or if something else is festering beneath the surface. Things that were once important to me have gradually moved beneath the radar of my interests. I prefer isolation, more and more, and being a part of the collection for various events has subsided. Reading, researching, watching historical documentaries, and of course, being with the pooches bring me the most profound satisfaction. For many folks, this probably sounds horrid, but for me, it is quite reassuring and liberating, bringing contentment and happiness. The sails have been readjusted.

Yesterday was the anniversary of the assassination of Czar Nicholas Romanov of Russia and his entire family in 1918. Mysteries still surround the ordeal of their deaths and the potential survival of certain family members.

“A Green Thought” by Katharine Towers

Say instead it was an evening in head-high
bracken with its smell of dark and medicine.
Thinking green of the infecting fern                                

where you may crouch and not be known,
lodging your feet for good amid the stalks.
A bower is a dwelling place or once it was

a cage for pent-up singing birds. 
Look down to see the warp and weft of root.
All the world is in these clutches.                        

Look up to clock the fern’s drab underneath
blotched with spores you mustn’t breathe.
Breathe in deep. There’s nowhere else to live.

Make it a great day!

Actually, there’s not been much activity from me this fine day, but the pooches have been quite playful and energetic. The Colonel even engaged the not so mobile Chief in a good deal of play. It’s great to see The Old Boy, who battles hip issues, pretending to be a few years younger. Now, they’re all spread out around the deck with Col. Deeds right by Chief’s side.

I read a newly acquired book on The 1904 St. Louis World’s Fair while keeping a castor oil pack and heating pad on my left shoulder that I injured last winter while lifting some heavy boxes. I’ve been relaxing to various documentaries and enjoying the antics provided by The FabFive.

Lunch was on the deck and now I am resting, again, enjoying this non-rainy day. The darker morning seemed to threaten rain at any moment but it has cleared, leaving us with a sunny, yet overcast sky. It is quite comfortable on the deck.

I plan to work on my project’s outline while enjoying time outside until it’s time for my regular Wednesday dinner with Laura and Mama Kay. I am sure I will give in to a nap during that process.

The cardinals and several other chatty birds are loud, but I’m glad they’re piping along. A nice breeze, tuneful birds, the whir of traffic on the Shroyer Road side of The Haasienda make for a beautiful day.

Make it a great day!

At the last minute, I made the decision to grab No. 17 for downtown Dayton so I could dine at my Chinese Buffet and head to the Neon Movies for the 7:20 PM viewing of THE MIRACLE CLUB.

Kathy Bates. Maggie Smith. Laura Linney.

I figured it would be like riding The Beast, my favorite Kings Island roller coaster. For me, personally, it was more exciting as the highs were higher, the dips were much greater, and the ride met every emotional expectation from being buckled into the car until exiting the platform.

I saw this movie at the right time as I enter an episode of even greater reflection and accounting. Miracles. Coming to terms with the past. Greeting the future.

The movie reflects life’s own roller coaster. For some folks, one ride on The Beast is plenty. For me, I’ll ride the damned roller coaster over and over.

THE MIRACLE CLUB was a beautiful, exciting, and reflective ride for me.

I left the Neon Movies and aimed toward the downtown bus depot. As I passed the public television station’s lengthy panel of darkened glass, the reflections danced before me.

“Song at Sunset” by Whitman, Walt
Illustrious the attribute of speech—the senses—the body;
Illustrious the passing light! Illustrious the pale reflection on the new moon in the
western
sky!
Illustrious whatever I see, or hear, or touch, to the last.

Good in all,
In the satisfaction and aplomb of animals,
In the annual return of the seasons,
In the hilarity of youth,
In the strength and flush of manhood,
In the grandeur and exquisiteness of old age,
In the superb vistas of Death.

About this time in 2013, my 13 years old pal, Flyer, who’d been a wonderful, devoted support mama for the first four sons and foster sons, was entering the last week of her life.

From the minute he stepped into The Haasienda as a twelve week old pup, Chief was devoted to his older blind sister. Chief became her protector and always snuggled by her as though to let her know she was loved. Flyer, who lost her eye sight in 2010 due to a severe bout of pancreatitis, got around amazingly well. But that was all part of the brilliance that made Flyer so special.

As we were nearing the end, Chief, almost three years old, was even more attentive to Flyer. I made a comfortable pallet for her in my study and would hold her between lessons. When I’d rise to teach, Chief would slide in next to Flyer, often wrapping his giant paws around her.

Mother drove over from Indiana to spend a few days with us, and to hug on her favorite girl. 70+ folks visited Flyer that final week, several driving down from Bowling Green State University to say “farewell” to their pal who’d attended their private lessons through the years.

Chief’s great heart has always been astounding through the years, but it was especially impressive ten years ago as we began the process of bidding goodbye to our beloved Flyer.

PHOTOS: Flyer (red collar) and Chief (blue collar), July 2013.

There is no sunshine this morning. The grey skies threaten us with rain, but the radar has changed much throughout the night.  It is one of those “wait and see” kind of days.

Yesterday’s event I managed was to go from 9:30 AM to 11:15 AM but by 10:05 AM they were applauding the speaker and pouring out of the hall. I was home an hour earlier and napped until it was time to head out to dinner with two former studio moms I had not seen in quite some time. I returned home and relaxed on the deck until 9:30 PM before heading inside to prep for bed.

I have several things to accomplish this morning and then I need to rest up for tomorrow’s adventures downtown. Hopefully, the remainder of the weekend will be restful.

ANSWER JULY

Emily Dickinson

Answer July—
Where is the Bee—
Where is the Blush—
Where is the Hay?

Ah, said July—
Where is the Seed—
Where is the Bud—
Where is the May—
Answer Thee—Me—

Nay—said the May—
Show me the Snow—
Show me the Bells—
Show me the Jay!

Quibbled the Jay—
Where be the Maize—
Where be the Haze—
Where be the Bur?
Here—said the Year—

Make it a great day!