Ah fall, with the changing leaves and cooler temperatures and that seasonal bugaboo, Allergies. Ugh. It feels like someone with really big hands has grabbed my face and is just squishing it. It is not pleasant. I have some very nice meds here, some that make me sleep, others that make me loopy. But food is essential comfort when you're sick. My mom would fix me Chicken -n-Stars soup when I was sick. The stars are what makes you feel better. Now that I'm all (or mostly) grown up, it is still my go-to meal when I'm not feeling so good. Soup and a grilled cheese sandwich and a good cuppa. I drink a lot of tea when I'm sick. It's soothing and makes my head feel better. I have a cup before I go to work and then another when I get home. Drugs are good, and tea is good, but it's always gonna be the stars for me...
May you and yours be healthy.
Saturday, September 20, 2008
Thursday, September 11, 2008
In Memoriam
Six times the bell is rung. Once for the first plane, once for the second plane, for the first tower, for the second, for the Pentagon, and for Shanksville, PA. On this day we remember, chaos, fear, and courage. We remember seeing people leaping from the windows of the World Trade Center, the dead being carried from the Pentagon, the obliterated field in quiet Pennslyvania. As the bagpipes play Amazing Grace, we remember the only time we ever knew terror in our hearts, in our hometowns.
And it strikes me funny almost, that the children I see in my dining hall every day don't really know what it means. Some weren't born yet, some were just too young to understand. I was 21 when it happened. I never knew fear before that moment. I wasn't around for air raid drills, or the Cuban Missile Crisis. This was my Cuban Missile Crisis. Only they weren't missiles, they were planes. And now, every time I see one in the sky, I watch it for a moment. I know that, reasonably, its unlikely that there will ever be another attack like that. But I still watch.
Next year, that bell will ring again. Six times. Once for each plane, once for each tower, once for the fortress, once for the field.
We will never forget.
And it strikes me funny almost, that the children I see in my dining hall every day don't really know what it means. Some weren't born yet, some were just too young to understand. I was 21 when it happened. I never knew fear before that moment. I wasn't around for air raid drills, or the Cuban Missile Crisis. This was my Cuban Missile Crisis. Only they weren't missiles, they were planes. And now, every time I see one in the sky, I watch it for a moment. I know that, reasonably, its unlikely that there will ever be another attack like that. But I still watch.
Next year, that bell will ring again. Six times. Once for each plane, once for each tower, once for the fortress, once for the field.
We will never forget.
Monday, September 1, 2008
In Which We Go on Vacation
For the first time in four years...Yep, folks, no vacations for me since my honeymoon. You get used to it.
So for the first trip, my hubby and I and my parents (and a lot of my yarn) go to the NC mountains and stay in a very nice cabin, not too far from Boone, NC. Wasn't much to do in the immediate area, we went in to Boone one day, to sightsee and to grocery shop, but other than that, mostly we vegged. Played a lot of pool, played a lot of cards. Dad was the resident card sharp, but I was the pool hustler. Fun was had by all.
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