The Haasienda on Shroyer…

MIAGD: Make it a great day

My neighbor, Kay, has a beautiful hydrangea in her front yard immediately next to my driveway so that I, as well as all my students and their family, can enjoy it.

Make it a great day, Folks!

Nicole Melin shared this beautiful piece with me. I’ve experienced the love of my dogs and cats, and have rejoiced in the love shown them, and myself, at their passing.

What It Means To Be Loved By A Dog

MIAGD: Make it a great day

Marilyn Monroe singing “We’re Having A Heat Wave”

Hot! Hot! Hot!

Yesterday, Sunday, it was 93-degrees. It’s not looking much better for today.

My very old compressor/generator is chugging away, but I am constantly holding my breath. The AC unit in the guest bedroom does an OK job but it’s hell inside my study. I’m considering moving the unit to my study.

Heat makes us a bit more grumpy, so I encourage all of us to make it a great day!

Breakfast and deck time was from 8:00 – 10:00 AM and I fully intended to begin trimming shrubs and mowing immediately after.

At 10:10 AM I walked into my study to find Chief already settled in for another morning nap. I decided to join him on the floor, and began massaging his arthritic hips.

Within minutes, The Girls were wiggling their way into the mix until ordered to “stille.”

After Chief rolled back to snuggle next to me, a rare act from the old boy, I began watching some videos from on my phone. Before long, all three dogs had sandwiched me on the floor.

12:45 PM, I brought my lunch to the deck. There’s a gentle breeze moving the air along in the 83-degree heat.

The dogs are back to lounging and I’m beginning to think the yard may wait until tomorrow morning.

MIAGD: Make it a great day

Since Clyde’s passing, two weeks ago, Bailey has been much more snuggly.

The first night I brought the girls home, Christmas 2013, they immediately snuggled against me as we slept.

It’s never changed.

And, I love it.

Bailey is either on my pillow, has her head draped over my neck, or pressed against my chest. If Bailey should leave the head of the bed, Harrigan, who is usually snuggled next to my legs, will come up to my pillow and sleep with her paw on my arm.

During non-bed naps, Bailey is almost always snuggled against Chief. When The Girls arrived, Chief promptly became Bailey’s big brother and best pal.

I do love the affection from these two sweeties.

They always seem to help me make it a great day!

You do the same: make it a great day!

MIAGD: Make it a great day

I love how dogs can be so paternal/maternal, always on duty.

My dog, Flyer, always stayed in the studio with younger students, often sitting near them. When their lesson was over, she’d follow them into the front room.

Many times, if the young student’s parent or ride had not arrived, Flyer would sit close by them, body erect, on guard, always on duty. Once the student left, with Flyer always walking students to the front door, she would relax and return to the studio to be in our company.

It’s no different with Chief, Bailey, and Harrigan. They, too, are always on duty at The Haasienda. Even my cats, who were trained just like the dogs, had a sense of being always on duty with guests and students. My wonderful Clyde was especially fond of his duties as a member of The Haasienda.

Yesterday, I looked around to see all three dogs surrounding the piano as Zach warmed up. Bailey was on the other side of the piano out of the lens’ sight.

Dogs always seem to make it a great day. Chief is battling a bout of arthritis but still remains at his post, always on duty.

As I finish up breakfast on the deck, Chief is at my side.

There are many lessons we can learn from our pets, especially dogs.

May you find the dogged determination to make it a great day!

MIAGD: Make it a great day

It’s almost that wonderful time I enjoy so much in late spring: the blooming of my Mary Lincoln daylilies.

Five or six years ago, Jim and Debbie Mccutcheon delivered four plants of daylilies. Their yellow bloom is one of the most exciting things in my entire garden.

My piano/voice student, Riley, was eager to show me a song she wrote and how cool that she accompanied herself on the banjo!

What a delight. And the song was very, very cool!

I have two piano/voice students, Riley and Katie, who are chewing up the carpets with their song writing talents.

I’m so proud of these two gals.

MIAGD: Make it a great day

My view of The Haasienda

And, making this full day a great one is my intent.

It feels so foreign to be away from the deck at this time of morning. After the tremendous thunderstorms, which caused a great deal of flash flooding throughout parts of Kettering, the dampness was finally beginning to evaporate.

However, a breakfast, two meetings, and much needed writing have called me away from my tented sanctuary of The Haasienda.

The day is quite beautiful, and beckoning.

Don’t wait for the great day to happen, make it happen.

MIAGD: Make it a great day

My neighbor lady, Kate, 93, from across Shroyer Road, is 40 years older than me; however, she moves around as easily and energetically as I.

I first met Kate when we moved here fifteen years ago. She assumed the two adopted sons, at that time, and the two foster sons were my biological sons. Since we generally only see one another during the warmer seasons, it seems she did not notice the foster sons had departed later that fall.

When No. 3 arrived in 2004, she realized I was an adoptive parent and shared with me that she had adopted her own two daughters who were older than me.

Kate’s sister’s family had been in an automobile accident that took her sister’s life. The two girls, who were four years and a few months old at the time of the accident, were raised by their father and several step-moms for the next three years. When conditions did not improve, Kate and her husband stepped in, took custody of the nieces and adopted them.

Even in the mid-1960s, Kate recognized the eldest child was struggling with grief issues and abandonment. Not only did she receive counseling but Kate went to work at the school as an assistant teacher (what we now call “aides”) to be there for those disruptive moments.

Today, both daughters are happily married and exceptionally grateful for Kate coming to their rescue.

Kate is one ten children and recently lost a sister-in-law at 97, a brother at 94, and her eldest brother at 105. Kate and five of her siblings survive and are in great health and quite active!

I’ve always been impressed with Kate’s active attention to her immaculate landscaping in both her front and back yards.

Several years ago, I contracted with a mowing company so I could eliminate several hours of yard work each week; plus, I had entered my fifties… it was time to relax.

Several minutes after hanging up from discussion with the mowing company I stepped out onto my front porch and was reminded “age” is a matter of the mind.

91 year old Kate was out mowing her lawn.

I humbly returned to my study and canceled the mowing company.

The following summer, Kate’s family convinced her it was time to call the mowing, “quits.” A mowing company was hired. When I discovered this bit of news the mowing company was rehired.

The other evening I stepped from the bus right at Kate’s yard, and spent an hour chatting with her. I later crossed the street, smiling a little bigger, more appreciative for folks like Kate in my life.

Kate is my inspiring reminder to remain active, as well as to continually smile (Kate, and my next door neighbor, Kay, have terrific smiles!), and to always be happy.

Kate always makes it a great day!

“Women will only have true equality when men share with them the responsibility of bringing up the next generation.” – Ruth Bader Ginsberg

RBG Official Trailer

I laughed.

I found a few tears welling up in my eyes.

I learned.

I appreciated.

I reinvested pride as a USA citizen but more so for the countless women who have championed equal rights.

This was my second viewing within four days and I realized, both times, my cheek muscles were a bit tired, even sore, from grinning.

But that didn’t stop me.

I love how this documentary reinvigorated my love for the human spirit and inspired me to work all the harder in all I do.

“He’s been placed on suicide watch because he said he would kill himself if he didn’t get a real family and had to go into a group home.”

It didn’t sound promising as I inquired about the young Navajo Indian boy. He would be under close surveillance for two months.

That was August 2009.

By early December, we were flying out to meet him.

I cautioned the others that he was quiet and very reserved, and that we’d probably need to back off our typical overwhelming humor and jokes.

We were waiting at the Red Mountain Family Services north of Albuquerque chatting with the director and his counselors when he burst through the door, grabbing us with fierce hugs.

Jaws dropped.

Glances exchanged.

His foster family finally stepped out onto the patio to greet us and said the car had not even come to a complete stop when he bounded out toward the building, rushing through the halls, looking into rooms with “where are they?”

Our first meal together, at Wendy’s, in honor of founder Dave Thomas, was a tradition with each new son. This was my fourth first meal with a new son.

It was not a get to know you meal, but rather a typical family sitting down together for dinner.

“Are you sure we got the right kid? He doesn’t seem depressed?” asked one son.

We stopped at Walmart to buy breakfast foods and snacks. The older sons were accustomed to me tossing things to them for a fake slam-dunk into the shopping cart.

I went easy on him and tossed a bag of bagels for starters. The bag hit his chest and dropped to the floor. He slowly lowered his chin to look at the bag of bagels on the floor. He finally raised his chin and with a solemn expression, said, “My people don’t catch.”

All I could hear behind me was, “My God! He is one of us. He’s a smart ass!”

The boy who’d sat through 13 months of therapy, barely talking, or crying himself to sleep in his foster home, had come to the end of his journey without a family.

Several months later, I took #3 and #4 to Hills and Dales Park to take photos. It took 45 minutes to get one serious photo.

Today, the thread of those photos popped up from June 5, 2010.

They made me smile.

Jose and Quintin

Since childhood I’ve loved cardinals, especially the one who took up residence in our big walnut tree in the backyard of 825 Main Street.

I talked to the cardinal and he chatted right back.

It’s no different with the the cardinals (3-4) who hang out in my backyard at The Haasienda.

MIAGD: Make it a great day

Today feels like The Haasienda is returning to the normal vas we knew it. Maybe a new kind of normal.

Bailey has eaten on and off, and this morning she finally ate a full breakfast since Friday. She’s stayed even closer to Chief’s side these past few days.

Friday, Saturday and Sunday the dogs did not possess their typical ambition for rising between 6:30-7:00 AM. Instead, they slept until 8:15-8:30 AM when I finally emerged from beneath the covers.

I’m still in a slight funk but yesterday’s students, the start of the summer schedule, bumped me up a few notches. I’m sure the remainder of this week’s gang will do the same.

So, we’re off and running as life moves on. We’re going to make it a great day.

It’s been a quiet day.

I woke at 7:00 AM, unable to stay asleep. The deck was a bit on the chilly side but quite comfortable. By 8:00 AM, the dogs and I had finished breakfast and I returned to bed until 11:00 AM to slay the weight of emotional fatigue

I made a pasta salad after finally cleaning the kitchen and placing the dishes in the dish washer.

After lunch I cleaned out Clyde’s food tank, took the litter bag to the dumpster, cleaned the litter pan, and finally forced myself to take down the crate and remove it back to the basement.

The sight of the empty crate was difficult. Clyde loved his crate, and it was just one day short of a week that he’d gotten to experience it.

Even with the three dogs and a teenage son, there’s a dog of loneliness with my cute, funny, personality-plus, plus-size Clyde.

Seven months of pure joy and amusement… I do miss this little fellow deeply.

And on with the day. It’s just now 3:00 PM, and unlike my friend, Jeff Carter, in St. Louis, I’ve barely scratched this day. Jeff put in an exhaustive full day alone between 7:00-10:00 AM. Oy!

I am planning on taking in a movie at The Neon and maybe grab a bite downtown if it’s not too busy.

My ancestors fought in The French & Indian War, The Revolutionary War, The War of 1812, The Mexican War, The Civil War, The Spanish American War, WWI, WWII, The Korean War, The Vietnam Conflict and served during times of peace.

I’ve always honored these ancestors and their contributions to our country’s service.

However, my two uncles, Garry Jolliff, USA Army in Vietnam and Ronald Barmes, USA Navy, brought me closer to my love for the military.

Each year at the Carillon Historical Park’s Heritage Festival, The Dayton Philharmonic Orchestra always performs “The Armed Forces Salute,” a musical medley celebrating each branch of the armed forces.

When we were vacationing in Washington DC in 1968, there were tons of Army soldiers everywhere and I kept my eyes glued, hoping I would catch sight of my uncle Garry. For some reason, I didn’t realize Vietnam was on the other side of the world from where we were.

When I was learning piano one of my first non-lesson book songs was, “Anchors, Aweigh,” which I learned to play for my Uncle Ron.

In June 1987, I lost my Uncle Ron. In June 2002, I lost my Uncle Garry.

Each year at this festival I quietly honor these two much beloved uncles when each of their military branches is represented in the medley.

There is always a little tug at the heart and a few tears in my eyes, grateful for their service, but more importantly, a blessed feeling that these two men were my uncles.

My uncle, Garry Jolliff, USA Army

My uncle, Ronald Barmes, USA Navy

MIAGD: Make it a great day

My first breakfast on the deck this season.

Actually, it’s not the first breakfast on the deck this spring but the first beneath this year’s setup.

When I opened the backdoor Clyde uncharacteristically dodged out the door and over to his crate.

At one point the dogs tore off of the deck toward something one of them spotted in the yard. Clyde was interested, too. He began meowing and within a minute or so, Harrigan returned and sat by his crate.

My pets have always been good to one another.

I love this!

I’m waiting for a decent time to mow the lawn so I can get along with other errands.

As you begin your holiday weekend don’t forget to make it a great day.

I’m about three to four weeks early having my deck ready for summer.

Since moving to Shroyer Road in 2003 the deck has been a gathering place. It was always a popular retreat for the older boys and their friends, as well as a place for entertaining friends and family.

Over the past several years, the deck has become my sanctuary. Some might call it my man cave, but I’m not altogether fond of the term.

I’ve always had an umbrella for my table but six years ago I began putting up a canopied pergola, a Father’s Day gift the past several years from my eldest son.

I’m no longer interested in entertaining so the deck has become my place to eat, relax, and write. It’s also a place for the dogs to relax and spend time with me.

This year, the crate is out on the deck and on our inaugural evening, Clyde has joined us and seems to be loving this new adventure. His tail has been gently swishing the entire time.

This is my place. I find solitude and peace, fresh air, my plants and flowers, and sheer enjoyment.

MIAGD: Make it a great day

It’s that time of year.

Transition time.

I love it. I hate it. It excites me. It saddens me. I’m most often energized. I’m sometimes emotionally lethargic.

Transition Time is when my seniors prepare to leave and my juniors step up to the plate after being in the batter’s box.

I have three seniors not pursuing music or theatre as majors but intend to join college music ensembles. I have nine seniors remaining with me through the summer to prepare their entrance auditions for placements.

Tomorrow, I bid farewell to the first of my three seniors not pursing music. I’ve had these seniors for five to seven years and I am dreading the final lesson. I seldom make it through the lesson without a tear or two.

In August, I repeat these farewells with the crew of seniors heading off to major in music education and theatre.

While this emotional season of farewells is underway I’m launching the start of college auditions for the next lineup of new seniors who will major in music education, performance and musical theatre. I will once again have eleven seniors but all eleven plan to pursue music education and musical theatre.

It’s an exciting time but also a bittersweet time in my teaching year.

I do love my career-life and the wonderful students with whom I’m blessed to work, as well as their lovely families who continually extend my own family.

To all my 2018 seniors, Godspeed, do your best, laugh your butts off, and always know you are loved.

• If you see someone who needs a smile: share your smile.
• If you see someone who needs a hug: share your hug.
• If you see someone who needs color in their life: share your crayons.

I cannot even guess nor imagine how many times I’ve been to this wonderful repository of United States aviation history. With each visit, I find myself more impressed and deeply moved.

It’s the best.

One of my favorite displays at The Museum of the United States Air Force: a tribute to the gentleman who provided us so many wonderful memories, Bob Hope.

From Wikipedia:

Quentin Roosevelt (November 19, 1897 – July 14, 1918) was the youngest son of President Theodore Roosevelt and First Lady Edith Roosevelt. Family and friends agreed that Quentin had many of his father’s positive qualities and few of the negative ones. Inspired by his father and siblings, he joined the United States Army Air Service where he became a pursuit pilot during World War I. Extremely popular with his fellow pilots and known for being daring, he was killed in aerial combat over France on Bastille Day (July 14), 1918.

After his grave came under Allied control, thousands of American soldiers visited it to pay their respects. Quentin’s resting place became a shrine and an inspiration to his comrades in arms.[2] Quentin’s death was a great personal loss to his father, who understood quite well that he had encouraged his son’s entry into the War. It is said that he never fully recovered from Quentin’s death. Within six months, Theodore himself would be dead.

<img alt=”” src=”//upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/3/38/Quentin_Roosevelt_headstone.jpg/220px-Quentin_Roosevelt_headstone.jpg” width=”220″ height=”166″ class=”thumbimage” data-file-width=”2848″ data-file-height=”2144″>

Quentin Roosevelt’s grave in the Normandy American Cemetery

Eleven years after the World War II American Cemetery was established in France at Colleville-sur-Mer, Quentin’s body was exhumed and moved there. In 1955. Quentin’s remains were moved in order to be buried next to his eldest brother Ted, who had died of a heart attack in France in 1944, shortly after leading his troops in landings on Utah Beach on D-Day as Assistant 4th Infantry Division Commander (an act which would earn him the Medal of Honor). Quentin’s original gravestone was moved to Sagamore Hill to serve as a cenotaph for the President’s son. The German-made basswood cross that marked Quentin’s original gravesite is on display at the National Museum of the United States Air Force, at Wright-Patterson Air Force Base, in Dayton Ohio.

MIAGD: Make it a great day

I begin teaching at 11:00 AM, today, to squeeze in several students with immediate needs for working on projects.

I slept fitfully, but enough to escape the arm pain (pinched nerve) throughout the night. I think the three dogs and Clyde were comforted that I was finally in my regular spot since waking Friday morning.

I need to mow but the grass is wet from yesterday’s rains and there’s rain forecast for the next several days. Yard work is not looking promising.

Other than that there is little to report. I should go take photos, somewhere, or go see the newly arrived Memphis Belle at The Museum of the United States Air Force, but I just feel drained. I’m thinking of returning to bed for another hour or so of sleep.

Whatever I decide, it will be a great day.