It’s been a busy week here at Sonnystone Acres. We attended graduation ceremony #2 for our #2 grandie on Thursday. This is from Early College, a group of around 30 students who earned Associate and Technical Degrees from Ivy Tech. Nova gave a wonderful speech, mostly about Speech, thanking her Mom and causing some leakage from my tear ducts. Her final commencement will be this Friday as part of the Central High School Class of 2026. I will sit that one out, but I sure am proud of her.
8th grad graduation, 1st day of kindergarten
My Number Four Grandie will have her Big Day this Friday morning as she graduates Fifth Grade and leaves Elementary for Middle School. She, too, will be speaking at the ceremony and I already have a lump in my throat. She is my baby and I am dizzy with how fast this time has gone. She was here today and we’re planning a return to piano lessons this summer, and weekly get-togethers. I cherish every second I get to spend with her.
Samantha, 2019Samantha, 2026
The Garden is all in and we are sleeping that tired sleep, waking up to the dawn chorus and getting back to it. When all of these graduations and dance recitals – did I mention dance next week, too? – are past, I’ll show you the garden Up Close with my new 50mm lens.
I hope you’re sleeping well in your neck of the woods!
I hope you have enjoyed your day as much as I have! The Edible Garden is nearly all planted! We have planted 6 cucumber plants, 8 cantaloupe, 4 butternut squash, 6 zucchini, 6 yellow squash, 2 pineapple sage, 2 bee balm, 6 basil, 1 lemon verbena, 2 chive, 6 tomatoes, and 3 blanket flower. I’m waiting a bit longer to put in my bell peppers, and I have yet to buy my green beans. I have marigolds and nasturtium ready to be tucked in here and there.
I can’t think of a better way to celebrate Mothers’ Day than in the garden, mothering the earth. Both of the progeny called to chat. Melissa sent me a 50mm lens for my Nikon and I’m going to start a new photography project soon. I’m dirty and tired and the day has been gorgeous.
Here’s a bit of mushy Mothers’ Day message from 2020…
I read an article the other day: 10 Unforgettable Literary Moms. I came away with one quote that resonated my heart.
It’s a quote from Toni Morrisson’s deeply haunting book “Beloved”. I confess, I didn’t get very far into the book before I set it down. It was a glimpse into a world that is so disturbing and painful that it caused me pain, too. I’ve always said I’ll get back to it when the Time is right because there is something to learn about suffering from it. At any rate, here’s the quote from Sethe, whose tragic past has complicated her relationship with her daughter, 18-year-old Denver. Despite all of Sethe’s problems, she is a Mother.
Grown don’t mean a thing to a mother. A child is a child. They get bigger, older, but grown? What’s that supposed to mean? In my heart, it don’t mean a thing.
She’s not talking about “raising” a child here. She’s talking about the ineffeable feeling of Being a Mother. There are no words, though I’ve just spent an hour trying to write some. It is Mystical Spiritual Love that is instinctively protective and nurturing. It doesn’t change just because your children reach a certain age.
It’s not about the Love you receive from your children. It’s not about what a Good Mother you are or aren’t. It’s about that Spirit that enters you when you give birth, committing you to a Lifetime of Support to your creation.
I know that some mothers don’t feel it and I’m sad for them and their children. Most of us, though, have been Blessed by that Love. Now that my kids are parents, they, too, know that Ever-Present Love and Caring for their kids.
It doesn’t change, no matter how much anger or sadness has found its way into your lives. It is Forever and Always.
It isn’t easy, this mothering thing. We try our best to keep sight of that inexpressible Love when times are trying, but ain’t nobody perfect. The Perfect Mother is one who has done her Best…and that’s all of us…and that’s Good Enough.
They are still my children, my babies. In my heart, they never are Grown, but I sure do respect them as Adults. They are Good People. I love being their Mom and am so grateful. (I really like those grandkids, too, but that’s yet another Indescribable Love!)
Okay, I lied again about those extra posts. When the daughter is around, there’s not a lot of down-time.
Yes, we did bet Golden Tempo, the longshot winner of the KY Derby!!! What’s even better is that we had a party of 10 to cheer the ponies on. It really was a Great Race–first woman trainer to win the roses, two brothers who came in neck-and-neck in first and second place, and the first in a while of fast track vs. muddy in Lousville.
In what seems to be my normal behavior lately, I have no pictures of yesterday. The Jr girls were in attendance and their mom took graduation pictures of them on the grounds, so you’d think it would have dawned on me to mark the occasion digitally. But, alas, you’ll just have to take my word for it – we are all gorgeous.
It has been a blast and today will wrap up with a visit from Aunt Dee and a visit to Aunt Donna. Tomorrow morning at 6am, she’ll be on the plane back to NYC.
Casey’s doing even better, kind of showing off for his daughter, I think. We see his surgeon again this Friday and I bet he can go back to driving. >sigh of relief<
Next week is Mothers’ Day, time to put out the garden. We’ve got one more week of low 40s temps, so that works out perfectly. I’ll see you then.
Hope you’re surrounded by Love in your neck of the woods.
There’s nothing like a trip to Rural King to get you in the Spring planting mood. Monday morning I bought an excessive amount of seeds for both early starts and my countertop garden, and grabbed up a houseplant.
Casey got his pressure washer delivered and my back porch has been transformed.
Check out my new raised beds. He’s tilling them today and we’ll get a load of soil next week.
I spent a lot of last week following up on what I’d spent the week before thinking/stewing about. In the last decade, we’ve all seen families torn apart by politics/religion, and one of them was my birth family. You know, if you’ve been paying attention, that after the last election I turned it off, changed my habit of living in the internet world of “news”, but one can hardly avoid the fact that he’s started a war. I don’t know if that’s why, or is it something else, but many americans are beginning to see him in a different light.
So it was that a couple of the estranged-ers reached out to me (after 10 years!), a little embarrassed and even ashamed, kind of like they woke up… I have grieved losing these dearly-loved people, and once I was sure that they were sincere, my family and I opened our circle. We stepped back and made room for more Love. We are Family and we’ll do whatever it takes to hold each other up, to help us get through.
I hope we’ve reached a tipping point somehow and more and more of us come together to repair what has been so tragically broken in our country and in our hearts.
Looking ahead…
We’re expecting a hard freeze Monday and Tuesday, so we’re preparing some covers for our roses. We’ve lost the first buds for the last two years! But my lovely forsythia have got their blooming done…
I don’t care if the Irish like it or not, I’m having corned beef, cabbage, and potatoes on St. Paddy’s Day. This year, I’m adding a new dessert: Lucky Charms Treat Bars, which should be magically delicious.
Then there’s Ostara, the Vernal Equinox, the #1 day of Spring. That involves quiche, green salads, baked bread.
Samantha came by yesterday to help me make cake pops. They turned out tasty, but not too pretty, and we had a lot of fun. My baby grandie will turn 11 next week! I’ll be out of town, so this was our Party…
Nova won 1st Place at her Speech Competition last week! Go, Nova!
My New Yorkers are in Ireland, competing in the All Ireland competition, so I’m sending Radiant Beams of Supportive Vibrations to them as they dance.
There’s a convergence of Holy Days this week – Tuesday is Mardi Gras, Lunar New Year, and Ramadan starts at sunset. Oh, I guess Ash Wednesday is the real Holy Day, and Ramadan goes on for a month, but New Year and Mardi Gras are serious Party Days. Bring on the Jambalaya and Hurricanes…and Spring Rolls.
On Thursday I’m meeting up with Dee to see the USI play, “Almost, Maine”. It looks like another good one.
On Friday morning, we’re setting out for Disney World, where I’ll be spending my Birthday #73 week. Arriving on the 22nd, we’ve got Lightning Lanes for TRON that evening, our first time to ride it with the lights on. It’s a great ride, a little short, but the lights should enhance the experience.
To celebrate my actual birthdate, 2/23, we’re spending our day at Epcot, browsing the Arts Festival activities, and riding the Best Ride Ever-Guardians of the Galaxy: Cosmic Rewind. That evening I’d like to get over to Raglan Road so I can have some tribute songs and dances.
The next morning we’ll rope-drop Hollywood Studios and snag Slinky Dog, another of my favorites, and one that I missed riding last trip. We’ll be sure to visit the Tune-in Lounge and The Brown Derby Lounge later in the day, and to check the queue lines for Rise of the Resistance.
Our final day will be at Animal Kingdom, saying hello to the animals at the Safari, and riding Avatar: Flight of Passage. There’s a new “ride” there – Zootopia: Zoogether – under the Tree of Life, where A Bug’s Life used to show; we’ll be on hand for that. In the past, we’ve been able to snag a table at the Nomad Lounge overlooking the river to watch the character boats float by, waving and smiling, and we’ll try to do that again.
A couple of the days are predicted to barely reach 70, but that sounds Great! It’s been a while since I needed a jacket there, and I’m looking forward to it. All sun, no rain – who could ask for more?
I get a little carried away when I’m planning, but I’m flexible when there are unexpected diversions. We always have fun just being together, and if you know me at all, you know that I love celebrating my birthday. It comes at a time of year that needs light and laughter, and I always take advantage of it. I’ll take you along next week and we’ll celebrate together!
We met up with the Jrs at Ellis Park last Sunday for the final race of the season. I can’t win a bet to save my life, but Casey did alright, as did Samantha!
I had surgery on Tuesday to re-center my left optical lens and it went well. This time around the anesthesia left me drugged for a couple of days, more than in the past. Maybe I’m just getting old? After my follow-up appointment on Wednesday, we walked over to the downtown Market on Main. I’ve been meaning to visit since it started up in June, however, it doesn’t look like I’ve been missing much.
Anyway, I did drag around the garden, trimming and uprooting, harvesting, and arranging. Fall is in the air, and both gardens are finishing up their service.
My son, Michael, will be 44 on Wednesday, but we’re celebrating today at our usual celebrating place, so I’ll cut this missive short.
Family Stories will be a blog about the lives of my shirt-tail ancestors – aunts, uncles, cousins – and I’ve got some good tales to tell. For the Introductory post, I introduced myself and said a few words about my other ancestry blog. Looking for a photo of some sort, I came across a prose poem that hit me in my heart.
It appears that Della Joann McGinnis Johnson probably wrote the original version of this, but others may have edited/contributed. Whoever it was, I thank them. I’m happy to report that I’m not the only crazy person who feels the presence of their ancestors – even consulting with them – and who views graveyards as living things. This explains it…
THE STORY TELLERS
We are the chosen. In each family there is one who seems called to find the ancestors – to put flesh on their bones and make them live again, to tell the family story and to feel that somehow they know and approve. To me, doing genealogy is not a cold gathering of facts but, instead, breathing life into all who have gone before. We are the story tellers of the tribe. All tribes have one.
We have been called by our genes. Those who have gone before cry out to us: tell our story. So we do. In finding them, we somehow find ourselves. How many graves have I stood before now and cried? I have lost count. How many times have I told the ancestors you have a wonderful family you would be proud of us? How many times have I walked up to a grave and felt somehow there was love there for me?
I cannot say.
It goes beyond just documenting facts. It goes to who am I and why do I do the things I do. It goes to seeing a cemetery about to be lost forever to weeds and indifference and saying I can’t let this happen. The bones here are bones of my bone and flesh of my flesh. It goes to doing something about it. It goes to pride in what our ancestors were able to accomplish. How they contributed to what we are today. It goes to respecting their hardships and losses, their never giving in or giving up, their resoluteness to go on and build a life for their family. It goes to deep pride that they fought to make and keep us a Nation. It goes to a deep and immense understanding that they were doing it for us. That we might be born who we are. That we might remember them. So we do. With love and caring and scribing each fact of their existence, because we are them and they are us.
So, as a scribe is called, I tell the story of my family. It is up to that one called in the next generation to answer the call and take their place in the long line of family storytellers. That is why I do genealogy, and that is what calls those young and old to step up and put flesh on the bones.
Because I love writing this Report, because the format of “that was the week that was” is easy, because my loyal readers enjoy even the boring parts, I keep on truckin’. But, honestly, I want more people to read my stuff. I’ve got some stories to tell and they’re good ones. Hang with me while I get them written and published over at Family Stories. Until I get going, there’s a lot of good reads at All My Ancestors.
We’re off to the Races today with the Jrs (minus Nova, who has to work)! It’s perfect weather, and I’m feelin’ lucky…
Our #3 grand-daughter, Eliza Belle Mayne Jose, graduated from 8th grade on Thursday. She will continue on to 9th grade at the same school, Avenues The World School, so it’s called a “Stepping Up” celebration. We watched on Vimeo and I wasn’t much impressed with the videography, but when my beautiful grandie walked up to pick up her certificate, I felt that overwhelming surge of emotions where your heart swells up and pushes tears out of your eyes. I love this girl more that words can say – well, you know that. When she was little, we would do a pretend morning show together. She was the OG musical.ly and would often facetime me so I could watch her latest choreography, usually to music that made me blush. She was born with a fabulous sense of fashion and she’s the one who I consult on which sneakers to buy. I’ll get to see her at the end of July and I can hardly wait.
Happy Fathers’ Day to all the Dads out there! I had a good one, but he’s been gone 28 years now. He would visit me every Wednesday, an event we dubbed “Music Night”. He would play the uke and we’d sing; he’d have me play the piano and we’d sing; I’d play some good tunes on the stereo and we’d sing.
Me and Dad at the Eaton Family Reunion, Grayville, IL 1979
We also drank and smoked and talked and laughed and sometimes argued, but we’d always end up singing. I haven’t done much singing since he died and my voice has gone to hell, but in my mind those harmonies still play.
Had my second cataract removal on Tuesday and it’s gone well – not as well as the right eye – but every day is more clear. I expect I’ll be seeing a lot of fog soon, anyway.
“Surely we’ve had enough rain this week to last us a couple”, I wrote last week. Surely we did, but the ever-whimsical Spring disagreed and brought us a deluge of four inches on Friday, another 1.5 on Saturday. Luckily, we had most every plant staked or propped and there was very little damage to the gardens.
I would have preferred to be sitting in a lawn chair at the Handy Festival, but since our Entire Day here at Sonnystone was decidedly un-sunny, I assumed it was the same over in Henderson. I was soo disappointed when I found out on the evening news – rain still pouring outside my window – that it was sunny and dry just across the river.
Here comes the humidity! We still haven’t turned our a/c on, but looks like we will soon. I’m beginning to start moving books off of shelves in the family room so we can pull up the carpet back there. Casey is restless if he can’t work outside, so this might be a good time to start.
We had a nice Thanksgiving with this crew, for whom I am eternally grateful.
We woke up to a couple of inches of fluffy snow this morning — nice touch, Cosmo, and very conducive to our ongoing (and on) hanging of the Greens.
Three more weeks of waning light until Earth’s wobble will turn us back toward the Sun and these incredible shrinking days will slowly begin to expand. Until then, it’s time to make the best of those 5 or so hours of daylight!
I’ve been writing out a monthly dopamine menu, which is a list of activities to do that trigger the release of dopamine, our homemade pleasure chemical, in the brain. December’s menu pretty much writes itself: Do All Things Christmas-y: Play the Music! Bake cookies! Buy Presents! Watch the sappy TV movies! Deck the Fa-la-la out of the Halls! I’ll be working in a trip to Grayville for a cousin luncheon, a visit to the Zoo and the Eville Museum, and Nova has a Vocal recital on the 14th. We’re planning a Winter Solstice Celebration on the 21st, hopefully lighting a Yule Log outside in my circle. Did I mention that my daughter has a birthday on the 20th? It’s going to be a lovely month, full of love and family.
Since Emma is not home from Colgate until 12/18, we have had to change up our 20-year-old Rockettes tradition–We will be going to a 5pm performance on Boxing Day (12/26). Casey and I will fly out of Nashville on Christmas morning and stay with the Joses until the 29th. We should have time this trip to visit the Met and the MOMA, something we’ve missed doing.
Our Christmas with the Jrs. will be December 22 and will include “Moana 2” — I can hardly wait. We have more plans with my Local girls in the next weeks, so I’ll keep you informed. I know you’ll be waiting with bated breath…
It’s a short Holiday Season this year, thanks to a “late” Thanksgiving. The “4th Thursday in November” makes our American Turkey Day a moveable feast that often intrudes on the Christmas season and this year is about as intruding as it gets.
Our current Thanksgiving Tradition is having the Jr. Family over in the morning to watch the Macy’s Parade. They arrive just before the parade starts, Dunkin’ Donuts in hand. In NYC, the Jose’ Fam are also watching, but Santa and the Mrs. appear on their screen an hour before they fly into our broadcast, a feat of time travel that I do not understand, but it’s true. We lay out a spread of sandwich-makings, some salads, veggies, and chips, and throw in pumpkin and dutch apple pies for dessert. We talk. We laugh. We play a game of some sort.
Our tradition is nothing at all like the Norman Rockwell tradition I grew up with, and I don’t deny that I miss the crowded tables and loud rooms of people of those days, but all those fine cooks have passed on and their grandchildren have children (and grandchildren) of their own.
After the games, the Jrs. have an evening Thanksgiving dinner to attend, and the NYers are either already in Philadelphia or on their way, so by 3pm, we’re alone with the leftovers…and the Christmas decorating begins! I really enjoy decking the halls with fa-la-la and a lot of buffalo plaid…
Casey’s #70 birthday month has been a good one, filled with weekly presents and trips. We’ll sing a rousing rendition of HB on Thanksgiving Day, put a candle in his pie, and wish him well. The actual b-day-date is Saturday, the 30th, and we’ll probably go out for dinner or something.
Celebrating at Loco Burro, Gatlinburg
While we were in Gatlinburg, we went to a hard cider tasting at Smokin’ Banjo. These fruit-based samplings were right up my alley; I really wanted to love the Banjo Blue, made from blueberries, but my favorite was Sweet Heat, a raspberry concoction with a hint of jalapeno. We were persuaded to buy two bottles so they would give us a free bottle of Peach, which was pretty good. Since Michael and Jess are teetotalers, I may have to enlist outside help with drinking these fermentations…
With each sunrise I am granted, I give Thanks for Everything and All — for my Loved Ones (that’s You), for the sun and the moon and the stars and the wise trees, for my home and its gardens and all that grows here, for the many critters and winged ones who feast at my buffet, for the gifts of music and books, for the comradery of marriage, for the wisdom of my ancestors, for the Peace and Joy in my heart.
Sunrise at Sonnystone Acres, November 24, 2024
The composer Aaron Copland left us the beautiful song, “The Promise of Living” from the opera “The Tender Land”, reminding us that Thanksgiving Day was originally a harvest celebration.
The promise of living with hope and thanksgiving Is born of our loving our friends and our labor.
The promise of growing with faith and with knowing Is born of our sharing our love with our neighbor.
The promise of loving, the promise of growing Is born of our singing in joy and thanksgiving.
For many a year we’ve know these fields And know all the work that makes them yield. We’re ready to work, we’re ready to lend a hand. By working together we’ll bring in the blessings of harvest.
We plant each row with seeds of grain, And Providence sends us the sun and the rain. By lending a hand, by lending an arm Bring out the blessings of harvest.
Give thanks there was sunshine, give thanks there was rain, Give thanks we have hands to deliver the grain.
O let us be joyful, O let us be grateful to the Lord for his blessing.
Hope you’ll be having a grand Thanksgiving week-end!
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