MORE DAY LILIES

Some more of this springs' day lilies. The bright yellow one is called Condilla. When the early sun hits it, it really glows.

The dark red one is called Lady Scarlet. It's fairly large and blooms and blooms and blooms. It's kind of hard to get good shots for some reason. The blooms are so large the the close up lenses don't work very well. They come out looking kind of abstract. LOL

The last one is called Little Fairy and it is a gem. If there are fairies in the garden, I think they would pick this one to live in.

NOT WHAT I EXPECTED

"A wandering spirit caring for a multitude of just concerns, you are an instrumental power in many of the causes around you.

And so am I, very dangerous: more dangerous than anything you will ever meet, unless you are brought alive before the seat of the Dark Lord.

Gandalf is a character from the Middle-Earth universe. TheOneRing.net has a description of him.
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When I stumbled on this little survey, this was not the result I expected. I'm kind of pleased though. I don't know how well the link will work on the glorious world of Mac AOL, but it is interesting to say the least. :-)

Actually, I worked through it three times and scored two Gandalfs and a Mr. Spock. Food for thought to say the least.

THERE'S A SHADOW ON THE FACES

Jackson Brown wrote this back in the Eighties. I heard it first on an episode of Miami Vice that centered on Central America.

LIVES IN THE BALANCE

I’ve been waiting for something to happen
For a week or a month or a year.
With the blood in the ink of the headlines
And the sound of the gun in my ear.

You might ask what it takes to remember
When you know that you’ve seen it before.
When a government lies to its people
And a country is drifting to war..

And there’s a shadow on the faces
Of the men who send the guns
To the wars that are fought
In places where their business interests run.

On the radio talk shows and the TV
You hear one thing again and again.
How the USA stands for freedom
And we come to the aid of a friend.

But who are these people that we call our friends-
These governments killing their own?
Or the people who just can’t take any more
And they pick up a gun or a brick or a stone.

There are lives in the balance.
There are people under fire.
There are children at the canons.
And there is blood on the wire.

There’s a shadow on the faces
Of the men who fan the flames
Of the wars that are fought in places
Where we can’t even say their names.

They sell us the president the same way
They sell our clothes and our cars.
They sell us everything from youth to religion
The same time they sell us our wars.

I want to know who the men in the shadows are.
I want to hear someone asking them why
They can be counted on to tell us who our enemies are
But they’re never the ones to fight or to die.

And there are lives in the balance.
There are people under fire.
There are children at the cannons
And there is blood on the wire.

Jackson Brown

It’s an angry song. A very angry song. Some things have changed over the last twenty years. Not much really. One thing I am sure of violence never solves anything. It’s a bandage over an infected wound. We lance it, it drains, maybe it moves someplace else. We lance it again. It drains again. But the infection remains. And it will keep infecting us. I wish to heaven I had an answer. My youngest nephew turns thirteen this month. The oldest will be twenty one in November.
I look at the world we’re building for them to inherit and I don’t know what I’m going to say to them when they ask, “What the hell happened?”

GRANDFATHERS

There are many voices shouting their definitions of what makes a family. I don’t agree with a lot of their definitions. Especially the one that limits a family to a man and a woman and their children. Once you define something, you imply that anything that doesn’t fit the definition is not “right” somehow. I suspect that what we have is an attempt to define “who” is fully a member of our society and who is not.

I’d like to share a little about the people I call family. My youngest nephew ( number five of five and the oldest will be twenty one this fall) turns thirteen this month and it’s stirred some thoughts and memoriies. Dad passed away early in ’95 and I’m not sure how many memories the younger boys have of him. I’m afraid there may not be too many. One sister lives in Portland and the other lives in Umatilla. Say a two hour and a six hour drive one way. Neither family made it home that often and nearly thirty years in the woods left dad with physical problems that made it hard for him to travel. Anyway, it’s  brought back memories and stories about my Grandpa Parks. The only grandfather I knew.

I think I was in junior high when it really sank in. The man I called grandpa had a different last name than two of my uncles. I think you don't really notice things like this when you’re little because your grandparents are grandpa Smith or grandma Jones (at least in my family) and your aunts and uncles are uncle Jack or aunt Cora.

It happened in the early 30's and my mom was all of nine. Her dad probably would have survived the pneumonia but he had TB, too and these were the years before antibiotics and the social safety net. Guys who ran little downtown hotels and had families to raise didn’t go to sanitariams. There wasn’t the time or the money. The man I knew as grandpa promised to look after the family of his closest friend. He married my grandmother before too long and they had a son of their own. Grandpa treated all the kids the same, hugged them when they needed it and even if they didn't. Called all the boys his sons and watched as one went to sea in the forties and another went to the army in the fifties. Number three lucked out and spent his tour in the sixities in Germany. He stood up for the girl he called a daughter when she started her own family.

He loved to fish and tinker. He loved gadgets. I remember at least one Thanksgiving when everything and every one else was onand at the table except the ham and by all that was holy that ham was going to be cut with that electric knife if it took all night. I think mom intervened and grabbed the plate. “It’s hot, everybody’s at the table, let’s eat.” He went the way he lived. Somebody needed something fixed and he was the way home from my uncle’s house in Portland when his loving heart gave out.

Between my mom and three uncles there were fifteen kids who called him grandpa and after over twenty years I still miss him. I hope he's found a place on the bank to fish. With any luck all the cats, and other pets they had over the years are helping out.

STRAWBERRY CANDY

We got this day lily last year, but it was too late to bloom. It is named Strawberry Candy and is very spectacular this year. Got it through Oak's Daylilies.

ALPHABETS

My brother in law told us about a game his family used to play on trips when he was a kid. Back in the dark ages before they put DVD players in vehicles.

The trick was toi find the alphabet-in order-on the road signs during the trip. Has anyone else heard of this one? I fooled around with it myself on the way home Monday. Some of the letters are ridiculously easy. Any vowels are easy to find. I'm afraid I had to take my Q out of order. Q's are hard to come by on I-5. I didn't find one until I saw a La Quinta sign. Z's are also hard to come by, but at least it's the last letter of the alphabet. Yaaaay Sizzler. Kept me happy between Salem and Albany to the tune of about twenty fine miles or so.

Had fun a few years ago when we took all five boys to the coast. My oldest, and very inventive, nephew Chris kept the other four going with I Spy with my little eye. Yeah, it takes a little work to keep kids occupied, but what are they going to remember about trips a few years down the road? Games and laughter or which movie they watched?

HAPPY FOURTH

We spent the Fourth at my sister's in Portland. The weather was great, they've gotten some more work done on their house, the pups are growing like small weeds (two boxers-Marley the male reminds me of Winston Churchill and is just short of having a "Hapsburg" jaw). They live next to Powell Butte in Portland. She's looking forward to getting the six foot cyclone fence in and letting the blackberries grow up it. With luck, that way the garden may grow faster than the deer can eat it. Squash leaves and blossoms seem to be the favorites right now.

There wasn't much traffic going up and there was none coming home. My definition of no traffic is about eight to ten cars visible in front of me on a three lane highway, three or four visible behind me and about one truck per mile. I took a vacation day today and I suspect that is was pretty slow at work.

We came home to one seriously pouting cat. Lucky's nose was so far out of joint it was in the next county. I think part of it was the fireworks during the day-she hates loud noises. Misty didn't seem to mind so much. But we left early and came home late and the Phantom Furball was not happy. Oh well, she got happy in the same fur coat she got unhappy in. We brought my nephew and half his worldlies back with us. We got a chance to see his apartment. It's the typical student digs. Small and kind of grungie but only three blocks from campus. He has to be down here for conditioning and weight lifting sessions for football. Besides, if you can swing it, it's the best way to get a place locked in for Fall Term. I suspect he won't be spending all that much time there anyway.

Back to the grind tomorrow. A three day week, whoopie. I like my job but trying to work full time and get over the dental work has been a little more stressful than I anticipated. Just keep putting one foot ahead of the other. It's weird some things are easier to get used to than others. Tomatoes, no problem. Cucumbers, no problem. Lettuce-a wee bit more difficult. Leaf lettuce-now that's another story.

Anyway, I hope everybody else had a good time too. And Lisa, I hope you had time to take a picture or two in Seaside. :-)