Good morning and how are you today? It snowed a little last night, just a light dusting on the grassy areas, not quite enough to be pretty.

We’ve fallen into our usual winter-ness routines: doing nothing, then resting afterward. Actually, I should only speak for myself as Casey stays busy on maintenance of cars, keeping the fire burning, and he even fixed my dining room chairs that have been shaky for a decade or so.

My laziness is legendary, but the internet and its myriad rabbit-holes makes me even less productive…especially for the last several weeks as I’ve obsessed on Harry & Meghan, the dastardly duo who have bombarded the world with too much information, and most of it quite damning to themselves. . What was meant to bring down the British Royal Family has backfired spectacularly, exposing their lies and Harry’s sad mental illness (me mum was killed by the paps). My mouth just drops as I read their ever-changing versions of what happened in the 18months they were part of the Firm, now three years after they left London for Tyler Perry and Oprah. The memes are hilarious, the snarky comments make me chuckle, and as many of the late-night talk show hosts join in ridiculing them, I feel somewhat vindicated in my disgust with them. If you disagree with me, please don’t bother to argue – you won’t change my mind. The vilification of King Charles and Queen Camilla has actually rallied people around the Royals. The only people who are impressed with Harry’s “poor” childhood are the same who think Diana was a saint… Oh, and wasn’t it nice of Harry to admit the Royal Family are not racist? And only 2 years after their accusation on O? He’s made himself a laughing stock with his todger talk and I’m exhausted by it. What a whiner!

I Swear, I’m going cold turkey, stopping my sordid addiction to the Montecito Shit Show.

The Jubilee preparations continue. I have built two spotify playlists, one with songs that have impacted me personally throughout the years, and another that starts in 1953, choosing a pop song to represent each of the last 70 years. The second list has been especially fun! Starting with Patti Page (my earliest star-crush) singing “how much is that doggie in the window?” and ending with Harry Styles’ “As it was”, it is quite a walk down memory lane. It still needs some tweaks, partly because I spent the 90s listening to country music and don’t recognize many of the Pop hits, or even the artists! Around here there used to be 3 country music radio stations to every one Pop station, but nowadays I think many of the country stations have switched to Jesus music. There is a HeavyMetal station, though, so Metallica still thrives in So. Indiana…

I’m keeping up with my book challenges and editing All my Ancestors. That’s about it, kids. I want to get down to Nashville this coming week-end for the Flea Market if the weather is halfway decent. Till we talk again…

Peace

Thanksgiving 2022 was…different… As you know, my New York grandies spend their Thanksgiving holiday in Philadelphia, PA, where they compete in the Mid-Atlantic Oireachtas (pronounced uh-rock-tus); this is a regional championship contest where placements can lead to qualifying for the All-World’s Championship held in April. My local fam, the Jrs, spend Most of their Turkey Holiday Week-end with my daughter-in-law’s family, but they always pop in for the Macy’s Parade and some lunch.

Samantha spent the night-before with us. About 2:30am she woke me up, sick to her stomach. I hoped it was just excitement and that it would pass, but it didn’t. She wanted so badly to feel better, but it was not to be; we made it almost an hour, but that was the longest spell between trips to the toilet. I called her Dad to pick her up around 6am and we called off the get-together. I sent half of the food over to them so I wouldn’t be eating for six. We watched the Parade and that’s about it.

But I don’t need a Day to remind me to be thankful. There are so many people who I love and remember daily in my prayers. I’m just sure you are one of them.

The rest of the week-end we’ve spent putting up the Christmas decorations. We have a busy season planned: NYC from 12/9 – 12/13 (Radio City Christmas Spectacular on the 11th); The New Yorkers then visit us from 12/18-12/23 and we’ll have a Full-Family, All-together-now Christmas celebration on the 21st. This is the first time since 2020 that my entire family has been together! That really cuts short my gift-shopping time, so I’m anxious to get started this week after the crowds die down.

It is my intention to pick up the blogging during this festive season. I’ve been writing/editing over at my Ancestry blog and it’s time to set that aside and share some of my own stories, keeping you up to date.

Casey has a birthday this week, #68. He just refuses to catch up to me! I’ll see you there!

Peace

For the past few weeks I’ve been sleeping a little later in the mornings, as if this old body was preparing for the inevitable “fall back” of the clocks. My circadian rhythms fell right in line today when I woke up at sunrise to take back the hour, seize the day, soak up the sunshine. It was a short one, that’s for sure, but the days will only get shorter until !! Christmas !! In the meantime, I’ll make the best of what’s around…

I used my Nikon to take pictures at the cemetery this week and I am very disappointed that I cannot seem to get the USB cord to transfer to my computer, so… Use your imagination: gravestones, old ones, all in a row, inscriptions barely legible, sitting precariously on their foundations. I failed to find my 2x great grandmother for certain, but I think her stone may have just aged to a point that I cannot read the name. She died in 1876 and despite the care the graveyard receives, time takes its toll.

I was cruising from Albion to Grayville, last leg of the trip, before I realized that my Mom was riding shotgun. Yes, I seriously felt her presence as I pulled in to Oak Grove cemetery where her parents are buried, but of course I would in that place on the 20th anniversary of her death. I paid my respects to Grandma and Grandpa and drove down Martin St. to see the spot where their house stood; it recently burned to the ground. There is a 5th-wheel hooked up there now, so we hustled on by, heading for my cousin Jeff’s house. When I got to the highway, for some reason (Mom) I turned right, knowing full well I should turn left, so I turned back toward the river a couple of blocks away. As soon as I turned, I realized I was on the street where Mom’s sister, Aunt Clara, used to live; that’s when I Knew For Sure that Mom was there with me. We stopped at the corner and stared for a while at the house that holds so many fond memories. It is seriously falling down, kind of sinking, and I wouldn’t want to stand under the back porch from the look of it, but I could imagine the ghosts gathered around the kitchen table, laughing and arguing. It was 20 years ago today that Aunt Clara died- yes, just four days after my Mom -and I was definitely feeling her presence, as well.

Turning back toward Jeff’s, I slowly drove by where Grandma Goodson lived — nothing there now, not even a trailer — but in my mind’s eye I could see the barn where Grandma Eaton kept her cow; her only form of refuge from her nine kids was walking down there every morning to do the milking. I finally drove on, turned again and landed at Jeff’s house.

Though I don’t have any cemetery pictures, I snapped these this evening…

I need to read five more books to meet my Reading Challenge this year, so I found some short novels that are just lovely…and brief…like this blog post.

November looks pretty boring right now, but Maybe I can find some Events this month to entertain us.

Peace