We had a great time at WDW with the Jrs. We rode TRON for the first time and it was good. If I were ranking it, I’d put it right behind Guardians of the Galaxy, Avatar Rite of Passage, Rise of the Resistance, Slinky Dog, and possibly 7 Dwarfs. When Tiana opens again, it may fall even lower, but hey, it was good.
I’ll make a movie eventually, but we came home to the most beautiful weather and I got sidetracked by gardening, some BIG Wind, and doctor appointments.
Then, there was the Total Eclipse…I didn’t expect to be so moved by it. There are no words to describe it, but both Casey and I were awestruck, only able to utter “Wow!”. It was just Wow.
Wondering just what Wow means, I checked out an article, “Why do we say Wow? , a very interesting read, that explained:
“Wow” doesn’t act like a lot of the words that make up the English language. It can’t be traced back to some ancient wowus spoken by Romans. That’s because “wow” is not a noun, verb, adjective or any other of those kinds of parts of speech; it’s a natural exclamation, like oof, ouch and ew.
Wow has evolved, especially since the 1920s, into all those parts of speech, but it was a natural exclamation while watching a natural phenomenon we call a Total Solar Eclipse. There was an emotional reaction for me, as well; one of peace and a feeling of belonging. If you ever get the chance to witness the Totality, go for it. It’s a real Wow…
If you’re a long-time follower, you may remember my garden blog, Growing Every Season. I started writing there in 2010 and in 2020 had used up all the free media space. Since then I’ve shared garden updates here at B&B, but I miss Growing and its lush photos taken weekly throughout the season. I am happy to announce that I’ll be starting up GrowingEverySeason2 this week, and I’ll share the link with you this Thursday, and weekly thereafter.
I recently finished editing, and re-published, the bio of my great-grandad, Ben L. Mayne, on my ancestry blog, All My Ancestors There’s a lot of words over there if you’re looking to do some reading.
I’ve been feeling like crap, suffering every side effect of some new medicine — sooo tired, nausea, digestive complaints — and when the headaches started non-stop I tapered off the med and stopped. (Of course, I talked with my NCP about that.) Finally, I woke up the other morning feeling normal and energetic and it’s like I’m baack! Just in time, too, to Welcome Glad Spring.
Where I’m going…
This time next week, we’ll be meeting up with the Jrs. in Disney Springs, opening up the festivities of our Spring Break Disney Trip. Michael and his fam are seriously WDW folks and always keep us moving from fun to fun. We’ve got great dining reservations lined up, five days in the Parks, and the excitement grows with every passing day. We’re leaving earlier than they are, spending a night at Fort Wilderness Campground before we move over to Pop! Century, our homebase. The kids are staying over at Caribbean Beach, just a hop-step-and-jump from us via skyliner.
Where I am right now…
We’ve had such a stretch of Spring-like weather that I fear April may live up to its name as The Cruelest Month. My magnolia trees have fully bloomed without a freeze nipping their buds, the forsythias and quince are beautiful, the daffodils and wildflowers are lush. Our birdfeeders are packed with migrating songbirds, and my Peace/Bird Garden perennials are peeping up. The raised bed garden, newly expanded and improved, is nearly finished. Though I’m focused on getting ready for our vacation, I’m excited to plant new beds and in a tizzy about what plants to choose for where.
Happy St. Patrick’s Day! We celebrate our Irish roots with corned beef and cabbage, potatoes, and carrots, listening to some traditional Irish music, and working on perfecting my Irish brogue with Jameson and ginger. All Hail to my Irish ancestors!
A framed print of this Irish blessing was displayed in my home growing up, a gift from my great-grandmother, Kathleen Kinkade… I wish this to you, today and always.
May the road rise to meet you, May the wind be always at your back. May the sun shine warm upon your face, The rains fall soft upon your fields. And until we meet again, May God hold you in the palm of his hand.
From the barrage of marketing solar eclipse glasses and events planning festivals around the date of April 8, 2024, I can’t help but pay some attention to the phenomena. Evidently Eville will be treated to almost the entire eclipse, but Grayville, IL, home of my illustrious cousins, is right on the spot.
The last eclipse it got pretty dark around here. I was down at my nail place and one of the ladies had some glasses that we passed around. It was just eerie, but we had a little fun standing and watching. I can’t quite see planning a party around it, though a pagan ritual comes to mind.
In fact, I rather worry that my fellow Evillians and Grayvillians may follow the example of their former leader and think, I don’t need no damn glasses, and half of our population will be struck blind. Seriously. I think I’ll avoid the mayhem and do that pagan thing.
The whole eclipse thing reminded me of Mark Twain’s “A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur’s Court” and I dragged it out to re-read. It is truly Mark Twain at his best, spinning a yarn about an engineer named Hank Morgan, who is hit on the head and transported from 1889 to Camelot, where he remembers that a solar eclipse will happen the next day, thereby convincing the people that he is a powerful magician who can blot out the sun, and that he had saved them from darkness, making them submit to him. He’s not a bad guy, though. The adventures of the Yankee and his sidekick, Clarence, are hilarious and also timeless satire. Good Book.
But Eclipse deeply triggers this: Pink Floyd
We’ve dreamed up a new garden plan, expanding just when I thought I wanted to scale down. That’s what winter will do to a gardener– gives you big dreams of when everything is green and fruiting again. Since the weather’s been so nice, Casey’s been doing a lot of work out there. I’ll share it with you next week.
I confess, I was very stressed about my echocardiogram stress test. Scheduled for 2/21, I spent 2/20 engulfed with anxiety, a chronic condition of mine, but the morning of the test my blood pressure was a pristine 120/71–perfect! As the sweet young tech hooked me up with electrodes, she convinced me that the test would be more accurate with contrast, so I agreed that an IV should be started. As the gal was starting the IV, my blood pressure shot up to 171/90, not good, but she almost blew the vein and it hurt.
She did the pre-test echocardiogram, and then we moved to the treadmill, where she instructed me that the incline and speeds would be increased every three minutes until we achieved a target heart rate of 127. The doctor arrived, and off we went. I do not do well uphill and though the pace wasn’t excessive, that incline was more than I expected. My heart rate went up to 136 after about two minutes, and just before the three-minute mark, my blood pressure blew up to 250/150… I said, Oh, my god! and the tech said, wow, that can’t be right, and came over and started fiddling with my blood pressure cuff, just as the treadmill was changing to an increased speed and incline. I felt no chest pain, but my legs were tired. The doctor told me we’d achieved our target rate and stopped the test. I then hustled over to the bed for a post-stress echo.
Well. In a couple of hours, the doctor had interpreted the results. My heart is fine, no blockages, good ejection fraction, no enlargement, rhythms had remained normal. The blood pressure thing, though, needs to be followed up.
Over 70% of Americans over 65 have hypertension, though many of them don’t know it. I had suspected that my blood pressure was increasing, but I started taking meds for cholesterol and had hoped its effect would also lower my b/p numbers. I’ve been checking my b/p at home and it appears I do have hypertension. I don’t know how they got that 120/70 number, but I’d like to see it again. I have an appointment with my NP March 4, so I suppose we’ll start some meds then.
I’m just lucky I’ve gone this long without significant health problems. Sometimes I feel guilty about it, as I have certainly abused my body and seem to have “gotten away with it”. Age always catches up with you, but genes are co-piloting. Celebrating my 71st birthday with Captain Morgan could be considered risky behavior, but I like that kind of excitement — it’s in my genes.
I’m just trying to Age Like Wine…
Old timer, old timer Too late to die young now Old timer, five-and-dimer Tryin’ to find a way to age like wine somehow
Todd Snider –
I thought that I’d be dead by now…but I’m not…
I’m meeting up with Lana at the Yellow Tavern in New Harmony tomorrow for the last of this year’s galas. It’s been a good week – I think I’ll do it again next year. Be there.
I like to make a big deal of my birthday celebrations now that I’m an oldster. February is often cold and gloomy, considered a long month despite its brevity of days. For several years I had parties here at the house, sometimes at restaurants, inviting as many younger people as possible to give me a shot of energy. I’ve had birthday galas in NYC, Nashville, California, and, of course, Disney World. When my #4 grandie was born February 22, 2015, just one day before my own natal day, I saw a grand opportunity to have joint celebrations, so since then she and I have a party for “our” birthday, usually just cupcakes and pin-the-tail-on-the-donkey, but great fun.
This year we’re taking Samantha, two of her buddies, along with Nova and her boyfriend, Aiden, to Gattitown for pizza and games. It’s Presidents Day tomorrow, no school, kids eat free, and I really enjoy the games myself, so it seems like a sign that good times are in store.
No Disney this year for my birthday because we are going for a week in March with Boychild and his family. We enjoy Disney by ourselves, but going with the kids is fantastic. I can hardly wait.
Appropriately marking my advancing age, I have an echocardiogram stress test scheduled for February 21. The radiologist who read my annual lung CT saw nothing on the lungs, but the atherosclerosis in my coronary arteries is still there, so I’ve got a new diagnosis and my primary doctor wants to look further. I’m not worried about it, in fact welcome it. Having worked in cardiac care many years ago, I know there’s lots we can do about coronary artery disease, so I’m happy to see if I need treatment.
So my birthday-date plans are up in the air. I may be celebrating a great test result, I may be starting new meds. I’ll let you know. Wild Rumpus-ing is not likely…
The sun has been bright in the mornings, belying 20degree temperatures. In its usual bipolar way, Eville will swing back to mild 60+ degree days this week, so maybe I can work on my tan….
Today is my Mom’s birthday, in heaven as they say. She would be 93 if she were still kickin’, but it was her fate to die at age 71, back in 2003. Her birthday was always the Prologue to my own, just five days later. I guess we never stop missing our parents.
Every week Dan Rather writes a nice blog post over at Substack. Today’s post included this video of Peggy Lee, a great singer/songwriter, singing her song “It’s a Good Day”. Music is a fine way to start any day, and this song got my toes tappin’. Hope it inspires you, too.
Peggy Lee wrote this song and many others, including “Fever”… Such a wonderfully talented lady.
The stormy clouds finally cleared and the sunshine has been abundant since Thursday. It was still gray and gusty on Tuesday when I met up with my brother, aka Brother, for lunch at Olive Garden. It was a make-up date from Christmas and an early celebration of my February birthday. We try to get together every couple of months and I always look forward to it.
I love swapping stories with Bro. He does have a name — Rick — but I have called him Brother since I learned to talk. He’s almost six years older than me, happily married for nearly 57 years, three daughters, eight grandchildren — just a great guy.
Other than that foray to the East Side, we’ve been home. We set up a little picnic down at the firepit in the grove on Friday and spent some time staring at the fire.
Oh, but the birds continue to fascinate us. The hawk has given up on our feeders since we moved them under the porch and no squirrels have attempted to raid them, so we’ve left them there.
The sunshine makes such a difference in attitude, doesn’t it? I feel like my battery is fully charged! Hope you’re feeling energized in your neck of the woods.
The wheel is turning and we can’t slow down… My New York Irish Dancer grand-daughters both had birthdays last week. Eliza, my #3 grandie, turned 13 on the 21st; Emma, my #1 grandie, turned 18 on the 24th. I am a little dizzy thinking about how the time has flown. They are gems in my crown and their futures look so bright that I gotta wear shades…
My #1 and #3 grandies,
Emma Magnolia Mayne Jose:
Eliza Belle Mayne Jose:
The old seasonal celebrations, passed down from ancient times, inform us that we will be celebrating the half-way mark of winter this week. Nearly every ancient culture divided the year into four parts marked by the Winter Solstice, the Vernal Equinox, the Summer Solstice and the Autumnal Equinox. Today, we still recognize these as demarcating our seasons. Our ancestors further divided the year at the halfway points between the solstices and the equinoxes. These divisions are the Cross Quarter Days: Feb. 2, May 1, Aug. 1 and Oct. 31. You probably recognize those Cross Quarter Days as Groundhog Day, May Day, and Halloween, though August first is usually just another hot day in Southern Indiana…
The ancients did not call it Groundhog Day, though I’m sure they would have loved the movie; they called it Imbolc. Punxsutawney Phil’s emergence may advise us whether we celebrate only 6 more weeks until Spring, or commiserate 6 more weeks of winter, but I’m going to celebrate the three hours of daylight we have added since that shortest day on December 23. This winter has been foggy and gloomy lately, and we need a little perking up. Folks of yore sure did like their bonfires and we’re going to stir one up this week. The temperatures are predicted to be balmy and I’ll be happy to get outside…verrry happpy to go outside.
The toe is healed, I’m getting around like a champ, and I’m ready for my own birthday month. The Jubilee Year wasn’t quite up to snuff for me, so I’m considering making them all a Jubilee. How ’bout it? Let’s dance… I’ve got plenty of room on my dance card…
It’s been unseasonably warm, but seasonably beautiful this past week. We walked through scrunchy red and yellow leaves, admiring the sunlight through the canopy of colour, grateful to have such beauty in our backyard.
If I were a bird, I would fly about the Earth seeking the successive autumns.
George Eliot…
Now the rainstorms have arrived, and tonight a cold front will push through, plummeting the temps below freezing. The heater is in the birdbath, feeders are full, ready for a season of caring for our feathered friends. The gardens are stripped down to seed-heads, and the herbs are potted and safely ensconced in the conservatory. Wood smoke fills the air and we’re ready to hunker down for a spell.
Nova, Samantha, and I have a date to see “The Nighmare Before Christmas” at the theatre today. We don’t get trick-or-treaters here at the manse, so this is my chance to eat candy!
Hope it’s warm and cozy in your neck of the woods…
Our Ancestor Archaeology has completed Phase 1. It was Hot, but an otherwise perfect day. Casey is a wizard with a hatchet and I’m pretty good at hauling off limbs, so I’m really proud of what we accomplished.
Let me tell you the whole story, copying from past blogs…
First visit to Emery Chapel Cemetery, 9-14-2023:
We took a mid-week trip to Ohio to visit the church founded in 1854 by my 4x great-grandfather, Adam Mayne. The building has been, of course, altered since then, but still sits in the same spot. There is also a cemetery where Adam was buried in 1857, possibly the first person to be buried there. Y’all know how much I love cemeteries and I was pretty excited to see this Major Patriarch’s gravesite, so imagine how bewildered I was to find that a tree – at least 50 years old — had grown up in the center of the Maynes’ headstones, a shrub had sprouted that added to the damage, covering several, and that the base of the tree was being used to throw broken limbs like it was a trash heap!!!
I was devastated. There were two guys working on the door of the church and I tried not to sound too hysterical when I expressed my dismay. They immediately recognized Adam’s name as their founder and took me inside to show me a glass case with a picture of Adam and Catherine, their bio, a picture of the original church, a plaque that honored him —
One of the reasons I want to be cremated and my ashes spread around is because I believe that a gravesite becomes a responsibility of your descendants, but that’s a way old-fashioned idea and who knows what my 4x great-grandchildren will think? I regularly visit five burial grounds in Southern Illinois, some down gravel roads or in the middle of cornfields, As I’ve haunted the cemeteries, I’ve never seen one so neglected, outright violated like this one, and I am moved to correct the situation. Keep your fingers crossed that the church-people will let me, because I have a Plan…
The church/cemetery is about 5 miles from John Bryan State Park where we camped. It’s a nice park and adjacent to Yellow Springs, a busy little village with a Hippie Vibe, interesting shops and restaurants. There are various and sundry nature preserves, biking trails, and even springs–ha! As part of the Plan, we’ll be happy to stay there again.
from “The Plan” posted 9-24-2023:
Thought I’d fill you in on my “cemetery rescue plan”…which is more like a “gravestone rescue plan”. I spoke with the Pastor of the church my 4x great-grandfather founded and he is fine with us going in and cleaning up the area where my Greats are buried. He was unsure about cemetery regulations, but I pointed out that I’m not going to actually Move anything, just uncover them and try to piece them back together. He offered the help of the church, talked about a re-dedication service when we have finished, and asked me to give a little talk about Adam and my other grandfathers who were central to the history of their church.
This is what Emery Chapel looked like in 1854
And now from our last trip, October 1-3, 2023
We felt a bit hurried by the changing weather, especially since the cemetery is North of our locale and frosts are imminent. Fall is a time when campsites are full-up, so we were lucky to find a couple of nights available October 1-3. It’s a nice 4.5 hour drive and we took off last Sunday morning.
I’m so proud of what we accomplished! I already knew that the gravestone of Sarah Ellis Mayne, my 3x great-grandmother, wife of B.F., was broken, but its engraving was still clear. I knew that other stones had been thrown in a heap under the shrub that was allowed to grow right through Sarah’s grave. We had not located Adam’s grave at all, though 4x great-grandmother, Catherine, and B.F.’s 2nd wife, Elizabeth, were both intact, sort of. All of these stones had originally been upright.
Here it is in pictures, best I could do…
This is before of the broken stones thrown into the bushes…
A work in progress as Casey dug out the shrub and used the weed-eater…
Before and After…
Can you believe the difference? What was most rewarding for us was finding the stone of Tobias and Emory, two of Sarah’s children who had died in infancy. Their stones had been thrown under the shrubs, (see the white ones above) so I don’t know where they originally stood. Sarah’s marker was a pretty even break, so we laid it down on the original base, leveled it, and put the babies’ stones at her head. I heard angels singing as we reunited the mother and infants.
Emory’s name is on the other side…
One of the broken stones looked to be the bottom third, showing an illegible epitaph, of a larger grave that we assumed had been Adam’s. We also found a hand-size broken “rock” with an A and part of an M engraved on it, so I figure it’s probably going to be like a jig-saw puzzle.
Adam’s gravestone
It was a great day and after a shower back at camp–the shower nozzle was the size of a sink faucet and sprayed everywhere except on me, so I did a little dancing–we enjoyed an even in camp with hot dogs and fire-staring…
As we were leaving, we made one last trip by the cemetery. As we checked and admired our work, we noticed a stone sticking up – it almost tripped me, and ran down to grab a shovel. Sure enough, it is Adam’s stone, I think, but we didn’t have time to do a total excavation. We covered it back up and started planning to return.
Reuniting Sarah with her babies has brought me great joy. My ancestors haunt me in the best way, so I know that Adam is thrilled we took care of that first. Now it’s his turn and I’m so honored. We’re planning a return trip in the Spring…
Oh, yes, while we were working, a neighbor and church member came by and told us where Travelers’ Rest by A. Mayne was located! Just 3/4 mile down the road, there is a golf course where my family’s stagecoach stop stood nearly 200 years ago! No wonder I feel at home there.
We’re getting ready to fire up the wood burner, watching for the leaves to color up, and spending these cool days doing the Autumn chores in the garden. Hope you’re feeling cozy in your neck of the woods.
Thought I’d fill you in on my “cemetery rescue plan”…which is more like a “gravestone rescue plan”. I spoke with the Pastor of the church my 4x great-grandfather founded and he is fine with us going in and cleaning up the area where my Greats are buried. He was unsure about cemetery regulations, but I pointed out that I’m not going to actually Move anything, just uncover them and try to piece them back together. He offered the help of the church, talked about a re-dedication service when we have finished, and asked me to give a little talk about Adam and my other grandfathers who were central to the history of their church.
This is what Emery Chapel looked like in 1854
We will drive Goldie back up to Yellow Springs next Sunday with shovels and trimmers and such, stay a couple of nights, and get as much done as we can.
Casey’s been splitting wood and I’ve been planting mums — very autumnal, doncha think?
The News from Sonnystone Acres 