The Bells of Peace

It's the "ah-ha" moment.
Now, I understand, but only to a point.
Armistice Day - November 11 at 11 AM, WWI ended - The War to End All War.
Sunday, November 11 marks 100 years  since that declaration - 1918 - 2018.
Ring the Bells of Peace - 11 times at 11:00 on the 11th month, 11th day.
       
American soldiers arrived in Europe in time to save the day for the world in a war that had been ongoing since 1914. Not long after America joined the fighting with not only supplies but troops, the Austrian emperor abdicated and it was over.

T.G. Dansby, Sr. (Papaw) in France

        Americans who felt they could not fail to serve the greater good had rushed to assist the allies. The extolled glamour of being on the side of "right" lured these men who had no idea what they would experience, what they would see. As the war continued, the selective service came into existence and men were called to war.
       When they lived the nightmare, it's no wonder WWI was to be the "war that ended all war." Who in their right mind would go to war after seeing and experiencing the brutality and human carnage of trench warfare.
         In The Ambulance Drivers and Three Soldiers, the writers were able to share encounters that made a profound impact on this reader. The German shells that landed in the trenches, the inhumanity of man that these soldiers witnessed, the deafening sound of war would surely bring an end to all war. 
        The term "shell shock," the "mustard gas" that killed from the inside out, the screaming projectiles and the eerie silence just before impact resulted in casualties, wrecked cities and ruined countryside. Soldiers either survived the battle or they died. Quite simply, the horrifically wounded did not come home.
   
     Many "end the war" celebrations take place, but Veterans Day has remained a time of honor and sober remembrance. This particular observation, the 100 year anniversary of the armistice of WWI, is worthy of  bells.
        We honor Veterans Day on November 11, and vow to ring the Bells of Peace.

What Not to Buy - Fashion Tips from My Mother The Queen

        Being a bit persnickety helps me control my urge toward impulse buying. Cute clothes and great prices. Very Tempting! 50% off, One day only, 80% off all Clearance. A friend's mantra: Never Pay Full Price. Decisions, decisions...I can't make up my mind. So, unless I'm in a rare mood, I buy nothing.
 
Here are fashion rules (from my mother's own lips) that I follow more often than not.

#1. You don't want to see yourself coming and going.
        That means a lady does not want to see the same dress or sweater or top on another person she might meet on the street or at an event. Even in a crowd, across a crowded room, at the concession stand at a college football game.  Related to rule #2.

#2.  Just because everybody else wears one of those dresses does not mean that you should. Same about jumping off the Ouachita River Bridge. Some outfits look cute on them that will not look cute on you.
         That means that the lady in the magazine photo or the model on the runway, or your best friend can wear a particular style because they are either 20 pounds slimmer or 20 years younger than you. Related to rule #1.

#3.  Trendy doesn't last. If trendy, spend very little money on it. Instead, update your wardrobe by wearing trendy bracelets and earrings or wearing a cross-body purse and cute shoes.
         That means that if you spend more than $_X_ on a trendy item that will be Gone With The Wind next season, you've spent too much.

#4.  Check the sizes  available for this piece you think is just what you need and a bargain to boot. If you wear a small or medium size, a size you've been working to achieve by diet and exercise, your 'goal' size, and the dress or other item also may be purchased in size GI-normous, do you really want to spend your money on that item.
       That means that if you are shopping in a department store or any general merchandise store and you see a cute item hanging among 40 items of the same design, think twice or three times before purchasing it. That includes knock-around tops.
Case in point. I impulse-bought a bop-around top at Dollar General. It suited my purpose at the time. Then, a lady behind the counter at the HVAC warehouse where Marvin was picking up parts said, "I've got that top - I think I paid $3 at the General Dollar." See Rule #1 and #2.

#5.   Just because it's on sale, as in 'the store is giving it away,' or 'today you saved $125,' you do not have to buy it or wear it.
      That means there are reasons the items are on triple Clearance. Probable reasons include 1) the item fits badly, 2) is nicked, 3) has the hem coming out, 4) is missing a designer button, or 5) does not coordinate with anything in your closet or anyone else's closet.

So, what to do about finding clothes to spruce-up your wardrobe and set you apart from the crowd -
     1.  Shop where the secret shoppers shop. Hold that lady hostage until she tells you where she finds those really great pieces. Be prepared to shop in boutiques off the beaten path. That may translate into Shop Local.
     2.  Find a merchant who will shop at market just for you and be prepared to buy what he /she offers. (an old Southern custom in fashion)
     3.  Find a merchant who stocks a limited number of the same pieces.
     4.  Travel for fashion. Any time you are traveling, make a purchase of jewelry or a top or vest or companion piece that can only be found where you are traveling.

Inquiring Minds

Learning new things, learning background on familiar stories, adding a reference point to history - I love all that.
My part-time gig as a newspaper reporter, writer, contributor gives me great pleasure. Partly because I like to write but mostly because of new perspectives I gain, new people I meet, and I get the "scoop" I might otherwise miss.
Upcoming is a community guide and I've been assigned stories to accompany the usual "stuff" that goes into such a publication.

So far, I've discovered an "old time radio star" and early television actor who also appeared with Jamie Lee Curtis, Dan Akroyd, and Eddie Murphy in "Trading Places." That movie was is final on-screen appearance. He was born in Rector. Maurice D Copeland died in 1985.

Off to Walmart to purchase the last DVD- Band of Brothers HBO made-for-TV miniseries. I've been able to research the 101st Airborne Division, 506 from WWII. Read history, take tests about Battle of the Bulge and D-Day, study, and then put a personal story into the mix and the whole thing changes. My dad was on Guam in WWII. Many of his Marine buddies attacked Iwo Jima. Several Camden folks were "fly-boys," a few survived the Bantam Death March, and one distinguished gentleman took part as one of Doolittle's Raiders. But this man who is featured in Band of Brothers was born in Rector, Arkansas, and I've had a chance to learn more about him. Denver "Bull" Randleman died in 2003.

Then, of course, there's Bill Carter. Not the Bill Carter from Camden, but the Bill Carter from Rector. He's alive and kicking. His autobiography is entitled Get Carter and it'll rock your world. From the FBI and JFK assassination investigation to U of A law school, to Keith Richard with the Rolling Stones to Reba, the Gaither Homecoming productions, and the Nashville music world, this man, too, was born in Rector.





Retirement allows this kind of fun and I'm having a blast.

Like a family pet

Three hummingbirds in aerial attack mode are entertaining me this afternoon on the deck.
The bravest one hovers near me, probably because of my red Coca~Cola shirt. Wanting to talk, the hummer buzzes closer before checking out the red vinca, the best floral container-garden specimen of the season. Friends, the other two hummies, dive bomb the vinca garden and that ends the conversation for a few moments. Then, like a family pet, the first hummer returns and fusses with dramatics at the feeder, which is low of their favorite juice. "So, is your bowl empty," I think, and chuckle to myself, making a mental note to fill the feeder tomorrow.

Deck Musings

    For the second day since the great white heat of summer 2018, I've enjoyed a morning and afternoon breeze with time on the deck. Ahh, retirement.
   While the to-do list waits, I'll contemplate my recent interest in WWI. We barely studied it in Coach Taylor's class at CHS, but I love history and learning new things. Several new perspectives have been shared through newspaper articles. Some deal with various architectural style of trenches dug across Europe, others with several counties in Arkansas protesting the service obligation to the point of combat.
    I'll share thoughts on the upcoming Centennial of the Armistice - at 11:00 on 11/11/1918, a cease-fire was declared - the end of The Great War, the War to end all War.
    A noble goal after years of horrific bloodshed in Europe which the US joined after years of quasi-neutrality.
   Multiple events are planned and I look forward to participating in those which are centered at Hemingway-Pfeiffer Museum and Educational Center and the City Market. I've come to appreciate Hemingway's writing style and his sojourn into the Great War as an ambulance driver which brought him the adventure he sought and swept him into humanity's struggle with loss.
   Ten years after the Armistice, Ernest accompanied his second wife, Pauline Pfeiffer, to her parents' home and from the barn which they fashioned into a studio, he penned a good portion to his famous war novel, A Farewell to Arms.

Hare Today, Goon Tomorrow

     When the Back to School vibe gets into full swing, my memory machine gets cranking. For as long as I can remember, Mother gave me a Toni Home Permanent (Tonette!) before school started.
The smell.
The papers.
The rods.
The torture I endured for pretty curls.
Like I had a choice.
I was a child.



The Toni Home Permanent did not frizz my hair for which I am grateful, but I could hardly sleep at night with the fragrance (?) circling my pillow.

As my hair grew and the perm "grew out" a bit, Mother would use either "spoolies" or "pinkies" to assist in keeping the curls abundant.

 Remember the sound of the spoolie being folded over to trap the wrapped hair?
My curls were numerous and my hair so silky that the waves often carried the indention from the plastic snap-over on the sponge thing we called "pinkies."

Going back to school had more to do with pretty hair, a good hair cut, or a soft wave-only perm than the right school supplies or book satchel or lunch box. Oh, what a nightmare on a first day of school when my forehead looked as if I'd recently recovered from a frontal lobotomy and had forgotten to wrap gauze around the scar. The elastic that held the dryer bonnet in place would make horrid indentations and necessitated an attempt at heavy bangs to cover the abomination.

Here's to all the girls whose mothers "jerk a knot" in their heads to create ponytails and pigtails adorned with big bows to brighten the first day of school.

New Year, New Joys, Love is in the air

Memories are powerful. Some bring hysterical laughter, others throw me off the bridge, into tears. 
For a week in January, I sorted through photos and single pictures with the task of "downsizing."
In those photos were tons of pictures of Mother and Daddy, relatives, their friends, both David and Richard as babies and into young adulthood.
I boxed up all kinds of photos and sent them to the "owners" who may do with them as they wish. A full week of "catharsis" must have been just the ticket.

David, who has grown into a wonderful man, has chosen his one and only - Amber. She is a love.
June 2, 2018 will be their wedding day.
I'm planning the rehearsal dinner and putting together a cute slide show, of course. I have lots of pictures.
I'm listening to favorite tunes to write down for the DJ at the reception, too. Talk about fun!

2018
It's a new year and life is about to explode with love and joy for our family.
Time to make many more wonderful memories.

January: It's Snow Time

 January: that time of year when weather gurus are put on high alert.
     Seldom did I go to work or school on my birthday; mid-January always had plenty of snow.

Camden (AR) High School - 1962

Known to stay up late, reading or watching late-night TV, when the forecast called for snow.
Known to wake up at 3AM, check through the blinds to see if the forecast held true.
     Speak in tongues when not one flake had fallen.

Being grateful when the school system began making the critical call before 11 PM.
Being grateful when Robo Call was used to notify parents and teachers about school closings.
      Glad I did not drive 10 MPH to work only to be turned around along with the buses.

I celebrate that I can enjoy the quiet beauty of snow and not worry about make-up days.
I don't worry about getting to school and calling the buses to send students home.
I don't worry about driving home from work in a quasi-blizzard, begging drivers in front of me, "don't stop...don't stop."

Still very interested as weather forecasters' struggle with accuracy in predicting snow
   I don't worry about it, though.
I look forward to the beauty, the blanketed quiet, the strange shapes covered in white
   The inner-child looks forward to sledding and hot chocolate

The long-range forecast for my area: snow around mid-January
Maybe I won't go to work!