The Haasienda on Shroyer…

It’s a peaceful, yet very stunning morning as we climb toward the eight o’clock hour. The sun is bright, the sky is a brilliant blue, the leaves and branches offer a gentle hula motion as the light breeze passes through, and a variety of birds perform a soothing concert.

I just wrapped up my Sunday morning Zoom call that connects Kettering to Boston and London, and am now ready to settle into more research on some of the men who made up Dayton, Ohio’s legendary Barn Gang.

I am several hours into my audiobook on John Quincy Adams but decided this morning I was tired of living in that era and switched to David McCullough’s TRUMAN. It is just over 54 hours in length. Perfect.

Later in the afternoon, as the temperature climbs into the upper 80s, I’ll resume my Zoom chair at my desk to teach lessons for the day. With the gut issue still lingering, I decided to conduct lessons via Zoom rather than in-person for today.

I wish I had time to take in the Carillon Park Band’s band concert featuring the award-winning carillonneur, Dr. Larry Weinstein. This would be a treat but impossible to do with my teaching schedule.

The pooches have had a busy morning between exploring the yard, greeting passing dogs through the Rockhill Avenue side of the fence, and reclining on the deck. Chief and Harrigan have been chasing and playing with one another which is something rare for both: Chief is older and less physically active and Harrigan has never been one to play.

On with the day as there is much to do. Make it a great day!

PHOTOS: Mary Lincoln daylilies and my single wisteria bloom

One of my favorite holidays of the entire year. July 2nd, 1776, was the day it was agreed upon that our young, experimental country made the actual decision to adopt the declaration written by thirty-three-year-old, Thomas Jefferson. Still, this day has deep historical and political meaning to me.

I am passing the day on the homefront, tending to my gut, and continuing my research. Plus, the expected 91 degrees and the impending sounds of fireworks has me concerned for the dogs’ comfort and sanity.

At some point, I shall watch, or listen to the movie musical, 1776. The musical has been near and dear to my heart since I first saw the Broadway production with my parents in 1969. It was during the first few minutes of the show that my father told Mother he saw some similarities between John Adams and “our first born.”

The morning is muggy. The resident cardinal chants away and the typical weekday sound of Shroyer Road on the other side of the house is usually quiet. The Quartet does not seem as active today and I suspect they are anxiously fatigued from last evening’s annoying “Booms & Pops” concert that was still sounding off at 1:00 AM.

I am listening to my audiobook, TRUMAN, by David McCullough, and am finding it quite interesting. I finished McCullough’s, JOHN ADAMS, which was great writing, but dull narrating. I started the audiobook, JOHN QUINCY ADAMS, immediately, but found myself tiring of hanging out in the same era. I needed a more modern read.

The Mary Lincoln daylilies are slowing down their morning production numbers and I shall miss them. I do see a few new blooms on the deck’s wisteria, and I suspect they will become more plentiful within the week.

The Quartet was not in a family photograph mood. Harrigan, especially, showed her displeasure, and Bailey’s head was cocked in disapproval. Chief and Erma simply looked away.

Enjoy this celebration of Independence Day and make it a great day!

It’s been a long week due to gut discomfort and although it is hanging on, I am in the hope the start of the new week, tomorrow, will begin a new level of comfort.

Today was spent all day at the park and the Guests that spent time with us were incredibly delightful and very grateful. One Wisconsin couple spent four hours with us and were bummed they had not finished nearly half of their exploration. “It’s all so interesting! We decided that instead of heading north to find a hotel tonight, we’re coming back tomorrow and then head back toward home.” Ahhhh! I love them!

Mama Kay and Libby arrived at the park following the end of 4:30 PM Mass, and we drove down to Centerville to sup at La Pinata.

Since 7:45 PM, I’ve not moved from the deck, busying myself with research on Charles Kettering, Edward Deeds, and John Patterson, fascinating entrepreneurs, inventors, and businessmen, some of Dayton’s best!

I completed the David McCullough audiobook, JOHN ADAMS, and am now listening to James Taube’s JOHN QUINCY ADAMS. What a truly fascinating duo!

At 7:30 PM, as I was setting up my area on the deck table, the fireworks began. It’s 11:10 PM and they are still going off. Chief and Erma have not left my side and have panted without pause. The Sisters have buried themselves under my bed. The fireworks are being set off from all directions surrounding The Haasienda. I am certain there shall be more of the same, tomorrow, and of course, Monday. The days following the 4th will also be just as bad. The social media responses in favor of these expanded celebrations truly demonstrate selfishness and even greater stupidity.

Tomorrow is the return to two lengthy days (Sunday and Tuesday) of teaching, and Monday I shall remain at home to be a comforting presence for The Quartet. Even while nudged against my chair and my constant reassurance, they are still miserable.

It’s moving in on 11:30 PM and I am feeling the long day’s sluggishness settling in.

The outside world is still flooded from the soaking we received last evening and occasionally throughout the morning.

After seeing PHANTOM OF THE OPEN at Dayton’s Neon Movies, Mama Kay, her cousin, Sue, Anna, and I went to China Cottage on Wilmington Pike for dinner. Afterward, we were checking out the new home of Sue’s son and the waterworks began. By the time we were back at Mama Kay’s, the downpour was beginning. I barely made it inside the house when the full deluge began.

By 10:00 PM I was in bed, Harrigan by my side.

This morning, the gut is tender and aching. I really probably should have abandoned the movie plans last night as I was uncomfortable throughout the evening. I still enjoyed the movie and the company at dinner.

It’s a full day at the park. My lunch is prepped and after showering and dressing, it shall be packed and ready for consumption later in the day.

Today, July 2, 1776, was the real day to celebrate as it was on this day The Continental Congress voted in favor of independence, and two days later delegates from the 13 colonies adopted the Declaration of Independence, a historic document drafted by Thomas Jefferson. With how I have been feeling, I am content spending Monday’s official July 4th celebrations in quiet, hopefully on the deck despite the anticipated 91 degrees.

The Mary Lincoln daylilies are beginning to slow in their appearances and I suspect only a few more days remain for their 2022 tour.

Whatever the day brings, make it a great day!

Our 2007 family vacation in The Outer Banks on Ocracoke Island, a favorite family haunt.

From 1999 until 2015, we often visited The Outer Banks several times a year. In fact, two or three times in the summer, I would finish teaching by 8:00 PM on Wednesday and tell the boys, “Plan B!” They’d scatter to go pack and within thirty minutes we were on the road for the OBX, driving throughout the night to explore the sights, both familiar and unfamiliar, Thursday, Friday, and Saturday before returning to Ohio on Sunday afternoon. I was tired, but it was always worth it. The Dare Haven Inn on Roanoke Island was always accommodating and they allowed pets so Flyer could join us.

My favorite eastward venture was always the first part of July, the official family vacation. We would leave Dayton on July 3rd and spend the night in Charlottesville, Virginia. The following morning, we’d arrive early to Thomas Jefferson’s Monticello where we would tour the home and grounds, pay our respects at his grave, and then celebrate the naturalization ceremony on the west lawn. We heard many fine speakers but our favorite was actor, Sam Waterston, who had portrayed President Lincoln in a made for television movie.

After departing Monticello, we’d bypass Richmond and drive the scenic route along The James River to see the plantations before briefly visiting Colonial Williamsburg. From there, we’d head on down to The OBX, check into the motel, grab food from Sonic at Kill Devil Hill, and set up our chairs to eat and watch fireworks along the beach. The fireworks began north of us and traveled down the coast with communities offering a set every fifteen minutes until they became just a glow in the sky to the south. It was a perfect day.

There was always something sentimental about touring Monticello on the anniversary of President Jefferson’s death, which was shared with his predecessor, John Adams, the fiftieth anniversary of The Declaration of Independence.

Here are some of my photos of Monticello from 2007 with actor, Sam Waterston, offering the naturalization ceremony address.

Muggy! It’s still a beautiful morning, here at my deck retreat. The sounds of the various birds sound much like the background of a film soundtrack, but then there are the sounds of work coming from the high school, Shroyer’s traffic from the other side of The Haasienda, and neighbors from across the street having a fence installed.

The temperature is forecast for a high of 90 degrees and I believe it. The “feel” of heat and humidity is all around.

I had a great time at both online events, yesterday. After the final presentation, I spent time chatting with Valerie, Donna, and Rose, which is always a highlight and boost.

Today, I am to venture to The Neon Movies to see PHANTOM OF THE OPEN with Mama Kay, Janice Moore, Anna Sacksteder, Mama Kay’s cousin, Sue Winterstein, and possibly Ann Jackson, followed by dinner. However, I’ve been experiencing intense gut grumbling for several days and may need to bail on this afternoon’s activities.

I will work as long as possible from the deck, probably bringing out a fan to ward off some of the heat. I actually do stay comfortable with just the fan on me. I will do anything to remain outside in the fresh air. I am taking notes from Isaac Marosson’s COLONEL DEEDS: INDUSTRIAL BUILDER. It’s a start for research, but I do become suspicious of biographies that glaze over some less stellar moments of an individual. Present the facts and let the reader decide!

Ah, well… Stop complaining, Darin! This is where Mother would have said, “Don’t complain about things without offering potential solutions,” or most likely, in this case, “If it bothers you so much, write your own book.”

No more complaints, so I guess I will be attentive to my work and make it a great day!

In February 1912, the United States government filed two suits against National Cash Register under the Sherman Antitrust Act. One was a civil suit against the company itself, and the other sought criminal prosecution of NCR’s president John H. Patterson, vice president Edward A. Deeds, and more than 20 others.

National Cash Register controlled about 95% of the market for cash registers at that time, and the government charged that the company and its leaders were guilty of using unfair, unethical, and downright vicious practices to secure that market share.

On February 13, 1913, the jury of the U.S. District Court in Cincinnati handed down convictions to all but one (and it wasn’t Patterson). Patterson, Deeds, and most of the others were sentenced to fines of $5000 (plus court costs) each, as well as 1 year in jail.

Yes, jail. They were as shocked as you are.

They appealed the ruling, of course. Two years later, on March 13, 1915, the Sixth Circuit Court of Appeals overturned the ruling and declared that a new trial would need to be held if the case was to be pursued. It wasn’t, and the matter was dismissed entirely on February 1, 1916.

It is worth noting that in the time between the first conviction, February 1913, and the appeals court ruling in March 1915, Patterson, Deeds, and NCR in general had endeared themselves even more to the Dayton people than perhaps they already were, with their extensive work in flood relief and subsequent flood prevention efforts following the flood that devastated Dayton in March 1913.

An excellent source of information on the NCR/Patterson antitrust case can be found in: Roberta Sue Alexander, A Place of Recourse: A History of the U.S. District Court for the Southern District of Ohio, 1803-2003 (Athens: Ohio University Press, 2005), pp. 93+, available on Google Books.

Grandpa Virgil (my maternal great-grandfather) and Grandpa Leroy (Virgil’s son and my maternal grandfather) were putting on a new chimney at the family’s new farm only two miles south of Elwood, Indiana, but now within the Frankton district.

Halfway up, my young grandfather, Leroy, realized some of the bricks were not the same as the desired smooth red side. “Mother’s going to shoot us over this.” The bricks with which they were working were the ones that had a rough, chalky texture on one side.

Grandpa Virgil thought for a moment, knowing he would not escape a good grilling over the uneven look. It would be a lot of work to tear down what they’d already constructed. He looked up at his son and said, “let’s keep going.” Grandpa Virgil explained they’d continue on and keep repeating the occasional white side showing.

Before long, a black Buick with a cherry red top, turned into the drive and stopped. Grandma Thelma stepped from the automobile and looked up to the almost-finished new chimney.

“Virgil! What’s happening with those bricks? It’s all wrong!”

Grandpa Virgil winked at Leroy and yelled back down, “Now, Thelma, this is the new style that everyone is doing with their chimneys.”

Grandma Thelma thought for a second, nodded, and said, “I like it!”

She climbed back into the car and drove on up the drive toward the back porch.

Grandpa Leroy said, “Daddy was relieved but more tickled with himself for actually pulling something over on Mother.”

The chimney has since been painted and possibly another material has been added.

In the 1940s, my great-grandparents, Virgil and Thelma Daugherty Barmes, moved from North D Street in Elwood, Indiana to a farm southeast of town in the Frankton, Indiana district.

Grandma Thelma wanted a picture window on the western end of the living room in their new farm house. Grandpa Virgil complied with the request and employed the assistance of his eldest son, Leroy, my grandfather.

Grandpa Virgil was excellent with construction, as was Grandpa Leroy. I still possess two desks made by each grandfather, as well as two chests by each.

The expert carpenters had thoroughly measured throughout the process. When the process of installing the new picture window was completed, they walked the fifty yards to the road to inspect and admire their handiwork.

Grandma Thelma returned, parking at the end of the drive near the road. She joined her husband and son to inspect and admire the new window.

After a few minutes of eyeing the new picture window, Grandma Thelma said, “Virgil, it’s one-quarter of an inch lower on the right side.”

“Thelma, we measured enough to know it’s exactly the same on both ends,” Grandpa Virgil countered.

“No, the window is not even by one-quarter of an inch.”

With that, Grandma Thelma got back into her car and drove on up to the house.

Grandpa Virgil and Grandpa Leroy walked back up the slight grassy incline to the house.

“Come on, Son, let’s measure it just to satisfy this debate.”

Grandpa Leroy said he had never seen his dad’s face draw up and drop as it did that day.

“Damned if your mother isn’t right. One damned quarter of an inch.”

Many years later, as Grandpa Leroy retold the story to my two oldest sons, “I don’t think I’d ever seen Daddy look so dumbfounded.”

It’s the last day of June 2022 and it couldn’t get a more beautiful send-off with this gorgeous weather. It’s only 63 degrees outside but very comfortable but an anticipated 88 is expected to top off the day.

My deck’s table is set up for a day filled with research and I am currently listening to a presentation, “Lincoln’s Autocrat: The Life of Edwin Stanton.” I’ve always found Stanton to be an interesting figure, yet I’ve never scratched that much into his story.

Today, I have two different online events, an afternoon presentation from Thomas Jefferson’s Monticello, and an evening Zoom meeting about the White House portrait of Mary Lincoln painted by her niece, Katherine Helm.

Late last evening, I researched more on NCR founder, John Patterson and the Sherman Anti-trust Act of 1890. Quite interesting.

Chief is reclining on the deck, waiting for some dogs and their owners to pass, while Erma and The Sisters are sniffing down the grass and chasing backyard invaders, real or imagined.

There are eighteen new Mary Lincoln day lilies in the front yard’s raised flower bed.

On with the day! Make it a great day!

National Cash Register, NCR, of Dayton, Ohio, was once the premier industry in the United States for many years. Its founder, John Patterson, was an incredible visionary and a true leader in business and sales practices, many of which are still incorporated in today’s business.

One thing in my research that stood out:

“At [Patterson’s] death in 1922, according to a corporate history compiled in 1984, ‘an estimated one-sixth of the heads of the nation’s major corporations were former NCR men who spread the Patterson methods throughout the U.S. business world.’” Murial Jacobs, “Antiques: The Incorruptible Cashier Lives,” The New York Times, January 12, 1986, p. 23.

The alumni of NCR included:

• Hugh Chalmers, of the eponymous automobile company
• Henry Theobald, founder of Toledo Scale
• Charles F. Kettering of General Motors
• Richard Grant of Reynolds & Reynolds
• Thomas J. Watson of IBM, would later say, “Nearly everything I know about building a business comes from Mr. Patterson.” (Watson and Petre, 1990, p. 13.)

The learning in question included familiarity with the rougher aspects of NCR’s competitive practices. Watson was picked by Patterson to develop a second-hand register business charged with “knocking out” rival establishments (Rodgers, 1969, pp. 40ff). He later was directly involved in a cash register “war” with the Michigan Cash Register Company, a war that served as the basis for the Department of Justice antitrust second antitrust suit against NCR.

It’s 53 degrees and shall only climb to a high of 77 degrees, today. I decided to stay inside for my coffee, bagel, and blogging. Even the pooches are inside and not on the deck in their usual spots.

I have felt sluggish the past two days, and when not teaching, spend most of the time in bed with books and documentaries. My lower gut has been aggravating me with tenderness and other difficulties. I am parking for the morning shift and will hurry home to nap before teaching. I had been forgetting to take my Vitamin B-12 for several days and I am hoping that might eliminate the fatigue. The weather, rain, or chillier temperatures, also affects the MS. So be it.

The students are cleaning up, this week, with their hard work and dedication. One student is playing Davy in NEWSIES! this week and opens Thursday in Colorado. Six others are preparing for THE MUSIC MAN at Epiphany Lutheran Church and it opens in about two weeks.

After today, the week is lighter and I am hoping to make it to Neon Movies to see PHANTOM OF THE OPEN which looks terribly funny.

I would also like to go off with my camera but I suspect I will lay low at The Haasienda and relax most of the week. The temperatures are to return to the 80s and that is perfect for deck time. Writing projects seem to have been on hold. While mentally and spiritually motivated, the body wanders off to do its own thing.

The Mary Lincoln daylilies numbered about seven this morning and others are waiting to push them out of the way for their one-day performance.

It’s time to prep for the day. Make it a great day!

PHOTOS: my Mary Lincoln day lilies; Mama Kay’s daisies and hydrangea; Harrigan relaxing on my pillows; Chief, Bailey, and Erma

It was an interesting day, to say the least.

I decided that I should venture out on this beautiful day and stepped onto the bus at 10:40 AM to head up to North Dayton to dine at one of my favorite haunts where I also employ myself with research. About a mile from home, I realized I had not brought my wallet. Rather than stand out in the sun at most locations, I remained on the bus to catch the No. 17 southbound bus, which I did. I had fifteen minutes at home before the next northbound bus would pass by The Haasienda. With my wallet secured in my back pocket, I was finally fully northbound, arriving 40 minutes later than my initial intention.

The bus stop’s location is a messy arena of idiocy where little attention is paid by selfish drivers who wish to get ahead. Today highlighted my assessment. I waited to cross the four-way stop so some cars could just go. I looked over my left shoulder and the fool behind that wheel, both turn signals physically cracked or broken, was in the left-hand turn lane, freeing me from his path. Or, so I thought. As I began to cross the road, he gunned the engine, turned in front of the car hoping to secure the right-hand turn lane, and barrelled toward me. Fortunately, he screeched to a halt before hitting me. I was near the halfway point of my crossing and I wonder if I had not been there if he would have crashed into the car waiting at the stop as the idiot was forced to cut sharply to pull into his lane. He received only a glare, not a word, which was quite challenging.

But, all was well, and I ventured on to the restaurant.

Lunch was good, as expected and I completed a good deal of research on some of the early Twentieth Century anti-trust cases that involved several Dayton entrepreneurs and businessmen. My gut issues intensified and I took the next bus directly back to The Haasienda where I napped for 90 minutes.

I noted that the table next to me had two women and two teens, dining. The ladies chatted, but the teen girls sat with their earbuds shoved into their brains, faces down into their phones on the table, and barely attentive to their meal. How sad. There was no conversation, whatsoever, nor any tangible interaction. I remember, a bit before the iPhone era took off, seeing teens and parents reading books at their restaurant tables. I was chastised by fellow parents for not allowing my sons to have their phones at the table but that was MY call and I refused rudeness to be present while eating out or at home. Meals were balanced with eating and conversation, seasoned with heavy laughter. What I witnessed at lunch was not a product of the Covid quarantine as this has been present for nearly fifteen years. I just find it to be so empty.

Now, I am enjoying the evening on the deck. My laundry is hanging to dry, dishes are in the dishwasher, another batch of salsa is made to last the next several days, and I am listening to David McCullough’s JOHN ADAMS via Audible. I am not enjoying it as much as I thought I would. I have found it to be more interesting now that Mr. Adams has now ascended to the presidency.

Thursday, I must mow the backyard, and possibly the front yard. The backyard is pushing higher and I cannot wait any longer or it will be a challenge. I have a 1:00 PM Zoom session with Thomas Jefferson’s Monticello historians and curators and then a Mary Lincoln presentation later in the evening.

Friday, I may try to take an adventure with my camera but it will come down to how my gut is behaving and how my legs are affected by the forecast rain, Saturday morning.

The high school’s parking lot is filling up with concert-goers eager to see the Killer Queen – The Queen Tribute Band. I am hoping to hear the music from my deck. One of the great benefits of living so close to The Fraze Pavilion is being able to hear the music.

I have a lone wisteria bloom and see no signs of future blooms elsewhere.

On with the evening. It is approaching 8:00 PM and I hope to work for another two or three hours from the deck before stepping inside to my bedroom to read while listening to a documentary or chuckling to the antics of Mayberry citizens.

Yes… this is so true.

Even when moving into their new adoptive home, several of my five sons had trash bags for their only items in their young lives.

Too often, their clothes were dingy and well worn despite the sizable clothing allowance their foster parents received for the foster to adoption transition.

The Black Market is quite expansive.

The cool breezes of this morning kept me from the deck and I breakfasted and scrolled through emails and social media from my bed. I may end up in this place for a while as I wage through some lower gut discomfort. I’d love to be out and about with my camera but I’m just not feeling the requirements.

The Mary Lincoln day lilies are plentiful and beautiful. There’s probably another week of their daily performances.

I’m going to relax and hopefully not waste too much of this fine day. Make it a great day.

It’s going to be a full day.

Friday, I worked at the park for four hours, returned home for a quick nap, and then took off with Larua for dinner before attending the marvelous Beavercreek Community Theatre’s production, SOMETHING’S ROTTEN. This is one of my “I really love to laugh” pieces and Matthew Owens and his adorable troupe did not cheat the audience of one moment that was meant to be enjoyed. It was a top-notch production from curtain to curtain. Plus, I got to see Michael Wadham and Megan Weyrauch Johnson on stage, again!

Today is RailFest at the park. I always loved this event in pre-Covid years but this year it will be enjoyed by greeting the Guests as a WayFinder outside my usual area in The Atrium that will be utilized for another portion of the event.

On Tuesday, I noticed on our schedule app that I was removed from the schedule for today. I canceled my canine crew for today, made plans for lunch with a former student’s family I’ve not seen in fifteen years, figured out how I could actually attend RailFest, and did not go to the grocery store to acquire items for today’s “pack my lunch.” For some reason, I got a “nudge” to check the schedule again, Thursday afternoon, and discovered I was back on the schedule. Argh! I got my canine crew member back and sadly canceled plans with my former student’s family, but due to the last-minute crunch, did not get to the grocery. It’s a mad scramble of piecing together things for today’s lunch. It’s all worked out, but it has had its toll on me with planning.

After my time in the park today, I will hop on the No. 11 bus and step off at Town & Country where Mama Kay will meet me within a few minutes of her Saturday’s 4:30 PM Mass. It’s so convenient each Saturday evening for our supper outing. We will head to China Cottage to celebrate Laura’s 58th birthday. Laura starts the march to my own 58th birthday exactly three months to this day.

It is now 7:15 AM and it is time to shave, shower, dress, pack the lunch, and hop onto No. 17 to meet No. 18 which takes me directly to the park. It can be “hold your breath” moments if one bus should be held up and I’ve another bus to catch; Thursday and Friday had marathon events causing delays and unexpected reroutes, and road construction on Irving Avenue. That was a lot of “do I get off up ahead and finish walking?” or just sitting tight and hoping things would work out.

This morning there are fourteen Mary Lincoln day-lilies dancing in the light breeze.

Enough of this mumbling and on to the day. Make it a great day!

It’s 8:45 AM and after some delays in getting the day fully plugged in, I am fully charged.

Humid air is kept at bay by a comfortable breeze and all the familiar sounds of the morning are upon me. The Quartet is exhausted and resting about the deck from earlier excitement. I am considering a return for a mid-morning nap.

The front yard’s festiveness is due to the Mary Lincoln daylilies that total an average of a dozen or more daily. In another week, their 2022 performance will be history.

Yesterday, I spent the day at the park, greeting Guests who arrived for RailFest which continues today. It was a nice crowd returning for this event after a two-year hiatus. Lots of happy little peeps who got to ride the train and carousel.

Mama Kay and I dined with Laura at China Cottage to celebrate Laura’s birthday and then spent some time back at Laura’s.

The pooches were eager to see me and we had some time together before I finally had to retreat to my pillows. The radar shows a few scattered showers at most.

Today, I am hoping to mow the backyard before some much-needed rain arrives in the Miami Valley.

Make it a great day!

It’s a very breezy, cool morning at 66 degrees and only eleven degrees to go to cap the day. I am writing from my bed where I suspect I will work most of the morning since the breeze is a bit strong. The hospital table I purchased in 1993 from a hotel liquidation store in Springboro has always come in handy as a workspace or holder of many bedside books.

The Quartet has been greatly affectionate the past few days and they certainly know how to love on me. They seem especially grateful to have students back in The Studio. There’s lots of excitement when greeting each student, followed by lots of sniffing and then finding their nap locations in the study as the lesson commences. This morning, only Chief is lounging on the deck while the three ladies are scattered about my bedroom.

I may mow the backyard, this morning. The front yard does not need it and probably will not until the week’s end. There were only three Mary Lincoln daylilies in the front yard but tons are waiting in the wings until time for their one-day-only performance.

There is very little to report this Monday morning and despite the relaxation, until teaching begins in the afternoon, I will still continue to make it a great day!

Thirty years ago, today, at 2:15 PM, my grandmother, Donna Mae Clary Barmes, passed from this world into the next.

Grandma Donna was living with my parents and youngest siblings at our South A Street residence in Elwood, Indiana. She had battled chronic lymphatic leukemia since its diagnosis in 1978 and had really done quite well in handling it. In April 1992, after she and Mother visited me in Dayton to check out the new house on Floral Avenue in The McPherson District, she began battling little infections and other discomforts. On Mother’s Day, I visited Grandma Donna at the hospital where she was battling pneumonia. As we sat talking, she seemed distant and not connected which was not her character at all.

June 8th, she was home and was a bit listless, according to Mother. It was the fifth anniversary of her son’s passing, my Uncle Ron. Several days later, she called her father and several friends, chatting for several hours, each. That night, while sitting at the dinner table, she collapsed and was rushed to the hospital. Within a few hours, Grandma Donna was on 100% life support. Exploratory surgery revealed colon cancer and several other things. The specialists concurred that she could not survive.

Saturday morning, July 27th, we gathered around her bed for the final farewells. We left the room as the life-supporting machines were removed. Her very strong kept the process from its intended course. At 1:45 PM, after conferring with the medical team, the only medical device attached was the ventilator.

2:15 PM, the heart monitor, after drastic slowing down, finally beat no more. The line was flattened.

While June has sported the much remembered and celebrated birthdays of Anna Greenlee Jones, my second great-grandmother, Virgil Barmes, my great-grandfather, Debbie Riser Fox, my cousin, and Parker Haas, my nephew, the month of June is also remembered for the passing of both my grandparents, Donna and Leroy Barmes, and two cherished uncles, Garry Jolliff and Ronald Barmes.

This thirtieth-year anniversary could be sad, but Grandma Donna was about faith, laughter, practical jokes, and even more laughter. Being sad just doesn’t fit in with the theme of remembering Grandma Donna, nor my grandfather and uncles. We’re not the somber kind. We celebrate and we laugh.

I do immensely miss the darling soul, but I treasure all that she passed on to me, especially the laughter and always finding the bright side of things in life, never the shabby. “If something is shabby, brighten it up!”

Thank you, Grandma Donna, for just being you and for giving all of us so much of your bright spirit that continues down to all your great-grandchildren and great-great-grandchildren.

Know you are still loved, very much…

The day is adjusting into one of great beauty, at least on the outside. It’s a mild, peaceful morning on the deck with all the familiar sounds that accompany almost any morning while seated at my table. I am hoping the daily beauty and affection from The Quartet will nurture the inner sluggishness I am feeling at the moment. I abide by, “and this, too, shall pass,” but right now, it no longer feels like Indiana Jones outrunning the boulder. Spiritually, and for the moment, the boulder has won.

One bright spot for this Friday is seeing twelve Mary Lincoln daylilies dazzling passersby in the front yard. They really do make me smile.

This submission was not written by me but is from DailyOM’s site where I often find comfort, encouragement, guidance, and inspiration.

Make it a great day any way you can…

BEAUTY DAY from DailyOM

Take the time today to really notice and appreciate the beauty that surrounds you.

Sometimes we go through whole days without really tuning in to the beauty of nature that surrounds us. We have a habit of seeing it without really taking it in, yet once we begin to notice it we treat ourselves to an exquisite realm of subtle, complex scents, miraculous forms, and ethereal light. The natural world enriches our entire being through the vehicles of our senses. When we are low, nature lifts our spirits. When we are tired, it rejuvenates us — if we pause long enough to drink from its beauty. If you have fallen out of the practice of taking time to observe the light as it filters through the leaves of a tree, or the concentric rings a raindrop makes as it plops into a puddle, you can retune yourself by dedicating a day to noticing the beauty in nature. 

On this day, one possibility is to rise early enough to see the sunrise. Watching the sky change colors and the world emerge from darkness is an experience that will influence the whole rest of your day in ways that words cannot describe. Or simply observe the quality of the morning light as it infuses the world with its particular pale golden beauty. You may let the light play on your own hand, remembering that you are also part of the natural world. Let your intuition guide you to the elements of nature that call to you throughout the day, such as the sound of the wind as it shakes and sways a tree or the feeling of snowflakes landing on your warm eyelids and cheeks. 

After you devote one day to opening your eyes more fully to the beauty of nature, you may want to make this part of your daily routine. Each day drink from the beauty all around you and allow it to rejuvenate your entire being. All you have to do is pause, for just one minute, and really take it in, remembering to thank Mother Nature for her beauty. 

It’s my kind of morning!

The cardinal is bellowing away his morning cantering song. The breeze is in Oscar Hammerstein II mode. It’s 70 degrees. The Quartet is animated and well into its morning routine. And, I am on the deck to work.

Work?

No, my work is actually my playground. I get to work with ideas, research, writing, planning, and studying music and history. Believe me, while it may seem like work, it is my playground where I get to explore the world around me and the world that interests me.

Some mornings, it’s difficult to contain the excitement when there’s a spark in my belly that is fostered and fueled by passion. Some mornings the spark isn’t as bright as other mornings, but that’s okay. It knows when to broaden the flame when needed. My students get to see it more regularly because I am a monster for collaboration as we observe, fix, create, and grow. What the students do not realize is that while they are developing and cementing techniques or skills, I am growing, too. It’s a fascinating life. Really.

When I am at The Atrium station at the park, I have the luxury of listening to a short documentary on Charles Kettering that inspires me each time I listen to it. Sometimes, I don’t even realize it is playing in the background but it continually embeds the terrific message into my brain and sparks so many ideas and opportunities.

Whatever awaits you on this day on your own playground, just make it a great day!

PHOTOS: Mary Lincoln daylilies and The Sisters

This submission is from DaileyOM and not written by me.

Your thoughts and actions are like stones dropped into still waters causing ripples to spread as they move outward.

In a world of six billion people, it’s easy to believe that the only way to initiate profound transformation is to take extreme action. Each of us, however, carries within us the capacity to change the world in small ways for better or worse. Everything we do and think affects the people in our lives, and their reactions in turn affect others. As the effect of a seemingly insignificant word passes from person to person, its impact grows and can become a source of great joy, inspiration, anxiety, or pain. Your thoughts and actions are like stones dropped into still waters, causing ripples to spread and expand as they move outward. The impact you have on the world is greater than you could ever imagine, and the choices you make can have far-reaching consequences. You can use the ripple effect to make a positive difference and spread waves of kindness that will wash over the world.

Should the opportunity arise, the recipient of a good deed will likely feel compelled to do a good deed for someone else. Someone feeling the effects of negative energy will be more likely to pass on that negative energy. One act of charity, one thoughtful deed, or even one positive thought can pass from individual to individual, snowballing until it becomes a group movement or the ray of hope that saves someone’s life. Every transformation, just like every ripple, has a point of origin. You must believe in your ability to be that point of origin if you want to use the ripples you create to spread goodness. Consider the effect of your thoughts and actions, and try to act graciously as much as possible. 

A smile directed at a stranger, a compliment given to a friend, an attitude of laughter, or a thoughtful gesture can send ripples that spread among your loved ones and associates, out into your community, and finally throughout the world. You have the power to touch the lives of everyone you come into contact with and everyone those people come into contact with. The momentum of your influence will grow as your ripples moves onward and outward. One of those ripples could become a tidal wave of positivity. 

I have always loved transitions of any kind. There are some transitions in musical scores or even a “borrowed chord” in a song that will inspire me or give me goosebumps.

• John Williams’ magnificent fanfare in those opening seconds of STAR WARS’ overture before it transitions into the main theme
• The score to the made-for-television movie, NORTH & SOUTH before it transitions into the movie
• The score to the made-for-television movie, FRANKLIN & ELEANOR where the haunting main melody appears during the overture and various transitions in the lives of Eleanor and Franklin Roosevelt
• That V7/vi from Beethoven’s NINTH SYMPHONY or “Ode To Joy” as it transitions back to the original key and toward the end of the song
• The Alonzo Chappel painting, “The Last Hours of Abraham Lincoln” where Lincoln’s earthly life is in transition, as well as the transition of all the guests who visited him throughout the death watch but compiled into this one moment
• Watching the previous Elwood marching band drum-major change his graduation cap’s tassel commencing my transition for my years as drum major
• Watching my mother and each of her parents take their final breaths as they transitioned from this life to the next

I have had many more transitions, both large and small, some that are more significant while others are less noticeable. Sometimes, a transition can be daunting, even scary. That damned fear of the unknown that President Roosevelt highlighted in his first inaugural address! But, how blessed to have transitions of all kinds that reassure, awaken, or continue.

This morning on the deck, I am loving the simple transition of morning into late morning, late morning into afternoon, the full transition into summer, the transition of one month to another, cooler morning temperatures into warmer afternoon temperatures, and the daily transition of my Mary Lincoln daylilies. There are so many little transitions that go unnoticed because we are always focused on the big transitions. It’s the little transitions that allow the larger transitions to take place. They’re the pieces of the puzzle that, when connected, make up the larger picture of the puzzle.

Transitions. Sometimes, we refer to them as “changes” and that always tends to dredge up fears. When I think of life with transitions, it is filled with an energy that suits me, an energy that pushes me.

This morning, a former student’s family is facing a hideous transition as they prepare to lay to rest their twenty-year-old son. Another family friend has welcomed his new daughter, Charlotte, into the world. Such opposite transitions.

Yes, there are those moments in life where a transition is unwelcome, visiting us as a nightmare. But somehow, we manage – we do manage to keep going so that we might explore other transitions. We do manage…

If you’re in a sour mood, transition your focus to something fun or positive so you can make it a great day!