by Christine | Uncategorized
I’m interrupting Wine Friday to talk about Veteran’s Day. I don’t see how one day among the rest of the year can possibly be adequate in honoring our veterans of all the wars since the end of The Great War, but I am grateful that our government chose to so honor them.
Veteran’s Day began as Armistice Day, the 11th hour of the 11th day of the 11th month in 1918, when a cease-fire went into effect; the beginning of the end of the Great War. In 1919, the first recognition of Armistice Day was held; but not until 1938 was Armistice Day declared a legal holiday. In Emporia, Kansas, a man named Stephan Riod, working with veterans from the Korean War, actively campaigned to change Armistice Day to honor ALL veterans; and in 1954, after many veteran’s groups applied pressure, the day was renamed Veteran’s Day.
Joseph Ambrose, a then-86-year-old World War I veteran, attends the dedication day parade for the Vietnam Veterans Memorial in 1982, holding the flag that covered the casket of his son, who was killed in that war.
In the early 70’s, the holiday was wrapped up in The Uniform Holiday Bill, a proposal to celebrate Washington’s birthday, Memorial Day, Columbus Day and Veteran’s Day on a national basis on Mondays, thus giving the American Worker a three day holiday. Vigorous campaigning saw Veteran’s Day return to the proper 11th day of the 11th month, but not until 1978.
My father fought in Korea – and he never talks about it. My cousin Mike went to West Point Military Academy, was in the military for 10 years, and went into the Reserves when he went to work for IBM. He was involved in Desert Storm. My Uncle Kenny was a POW – captured by the Japanese on Wake Island, and imprisoned for 5 years. The happiest day of my Grandmother’s life was when she got to hug him again, thin and changed though he was. My Uncle Lyn (Aunt Janie’s husband, my dad’s and Kenny’s sister, and Mike’s dad) was also in WW2, but he came through relatively unscathed. I come from a family of proud veterans. My husband does, too – his brother fought in Vietnam, and has terrible PTSD that he is just now, slowly, beginning to come to terms with. Their dad was also in Korea. Their grandfather took part in WW1. War tears families apart, and even when the servicemen and women return home, often they are never the same again. They deserve all our respect, every day of the year.
Oh yeah, something else is happening this 11-11-11. Many people are choosing to get married on this “magical” day; or to have their c-section babies this day. Whatever floats your boat, man. A quick scan of the internet shows more than one site declaring it to be “just a fancy number” while another site declared it the “Sun God” number; and still others warn that it’s bad luck. I guess it’s all in your perspective and in your belief system. So all you wonderful people getting married and having babies, good luck to you! Work hard at your relationships; that more than anything will “bless” your future.
Whether you get married, engaged, become pregnant, have a baby, buy stock, sell stock, have good or bad luck this 11-11-11, please do one important thing. Remember a veteran. Thank a veteran. Say a prayer, light a candle, be thankful that someone out there is fighting for our country (because I sure as heck wasn’t willing to do so, when I was able – were you?).
My dad, Chet Cunningham, wrote a book about Wake Island, mainly to include his brother’s reminiscenses of that time. You can find it on Amazon – it’s called Hell Wouldn’t Stop , an Oral History of Wake Island by the soldiers who lived through it.
To all the veterans out there – I give you hugs, and smiles, and a boat-load of respect. Thank You.
by Christine | Life, Observations
Thanks to David Hood for the photo - http://www.hourglasses.com/
I will not lie. I LOVE the time changes. I hope the government never gets rid of “Spring ahead, fall back”. There is something so urgent and hopeful about spring, moving the clock ahead, seeing daylight after getting home from the day job. Having the soft spring light in the early evening to wander in the garden, or to plant, weed, hover, dream in the half-light that happens (for me) between getting home from work and having to start dinner.
In fall, it’s even better. By November I’m tired of the heat, the unrelenting sun, the dry winds. Give me rains, and chilly weather. Give me a reason to wear sweaters here in southern California. I’m ready for it to be light at 5am. Let me enjoy the rare night fire, the family gathered around, mulled wine and hot cider available for everyone. (Trader Joe’s has a WONDERFUL spiced apple cider that is FABULOUS when heated.)
This year, I was doubly blessed on the night of the time change. Hubby and I went to an L.A. Kings game last night (hockey – we lost to the Penguins, waddle waddle) and due to overtime and a shootout, plus some nasty traffic on the 5 northbound (a big truck overturned and leaking oil/fuel/something flammable anyway, closed ALL lanes), we didn’t get home until 12:30am. Hubby had to leave home again at 4am, due to working on a USC grad student’s film in the Angeles Forest.
Luckily, because of the day, we just set the clock back. Which gave us time – him to figure out where he was going and to play his new Taylor GS Mini (which he ADORES), and me to make a quick breakfast for him to eat on the road (peanut butter and honey sandwich, apple, banana, and two tangerines). An hour (and a couple glasses of wine – oh, and some fresh popcorn) later, we were in bed. I think I was asleep before my head hit the pillow.
When I woke, Hubby was long gone. I looked outside – it had rained in the night. The clouds were still thick in the sky – I went back to bed for another hour, because I could. For me, “winter” had arrived. It stayed in the 50’s at my house today; the sky was dark by 5pm. Tomorrow morning, when I leave for work, I’ll have to re-learn how to drive when the sun is barely on the horizon and then SLAMS me in the face unexpectedly. When I come home, I’ll have to deal with driving in thick traffic at night along with everyone else, who has forgotten how. In a month, we’ll all have adjusted.
But my day today was an enchanted one, filled with the dripping eaves and a rainbow, the scent of fresh rain and rosemary and a woodfire in someone else’s hearth. It was a day for dawdling and indulging. I dawdled over the newspaper, reading every section of the Los Angeles Times (thin though it is nowadays). I made breakfast for my even later-rising son. I indulged in watching a video, and then did some writing/editing. I made plans for dinner, thanks to romance writer Christina Dodd’s post about macaroni and cheese. I took my son driving, and then went on a long walk (and I even did some very slow jogging – the legbone is feeling strong now).
The hubby came home, having spent the day being snowed on, rained on, sleeted on, then
thanks to http://www.bigfoto.com/themes/nature/winter/
more snow, all while they were filming. He had a big grin on his face though, and the merrily crackling fire in the fireplace just about made his night. Until I handed him some hot spiced wine. Then he fell in love with me all over again.
So, yes, I LOVE the time change. Yes my body takes awhile to adjust – it’s not even nine pm where I am and I was ready for sleep 30 minutes ago. But you know what? I don’t care. It’s a definite shift of the seasons for me, and in a world of perpetual sunshine, the fall’s “fall back” is a lovely signpost to slow down. A breather, if you will, between school starting, and the full swing of the holiday season.
~ Until the next time, cheers – and remember to drink responsibly! ~
My first novel, Demon Soul, is available for the Kindle and the Nook! It makes GREAT Holiday gifts!!! *hint hint* lol!
by Christine | Life, Wine Friday
While I was at Cypher a couple of weekends ago, the sexy ex-computer-geek-turned-tasting-room-guru T, let me in on the secret of Primitivo. Primitivo is a grape identical to Zinfandel and grown mostly in Italy, Argentina, and Chile.
Bells went off in my head. No WONDER I was drawn to Primitivo! I’d found it at Fresh & Easy, for $5.99 a bottle, and couldn’t understand how I could so love that wine. But it was hiding its true colors; and now that I know it’s a Zinfandel by another name, I’m SO on board. (Of course, the last time I went to Fresh & Easy, they didn’t have Primitivo any longer. Sigh.)
Tuesday night at Casa Ashworth, the Santa Ana winds blew. Hard. They blew hard enough to force our double front doors open wide; they blew hard enough to take lots of white picket fencing off my front fence, leaving an already-worn fence looking like an old woman’s mouth with teeth missing. The winds blew so hard, that it toppled – and split – a 30+ year old tree, narrowly missing landing on the corner of my bedroom. The power went out. I was late to work, disoriented by the winds I could hear in my sleep, and grumpy from lack of coffee.
Landscape with Windblown Trees, by Vincent Van Gogh
That afternoon, with the power still out, I found true parafin lamp oil (the other stuff is crap, don’t buy it unless it says PARAFIN lamp oil) and some new wicks for our many oil lamps. My boss, sensing my uneasiness, let me go while it was still light out, so the hubby and I could get our act together before darkness descended.
Yes, we have battery lanterns. But which would you rather gather around – the mellow yellow light of an oil lamp, or the harsh, blue light of a flourescent camping light? Yeah, us too.
By the time darkness descended, I was happily puttering about in the kitchen with three lamps burning so I could see what I was chopping, what was going into the pot on the stove, and what I needed out of the fridge. (Thank goodness for gas stoves!) I made soup from leftover veggies in the fridge, plus the rest of a Costco chicken. For those who want to know, I sipped on the last of a bottle of La Gioiosia Pinot Grigio ($7.99 a bottle at Fresh & Easy, tiny bubbles but it’s NOT a prosecco), and we opened a bottle of Rose from Adelaida to go with the soup – and that was yummy!
But there was the sense of primitivo about our night. Every room I went into, I flipped on the light – only to remember, too late. We made sure we had flashlights with fresh batteries easily available (our family’s prediliction lately is for headlamps – keeps your hands free), we charged our phones in our cars as we drove during the day, and used them as our morning alarms. It was nice, if slightly surreal. It wasn’t cold and we had water and gas; we weren’t that disabled by lack of electricity (except the hubby and the youngest didn’t get their NaNo words in, and grumped about it all night).
To revel in the winds and the darkness, at about ten I went outside. The winds had died to mere puffs of air; the stars were half-obscured by the bright quarter-moon. And the silence I’d been expecting?
Filled with the hum of generators. I much preferred my lamps.
Next week I promise I’ll get a wine blog together – this week, life’s been kinda crazy!
~ Cheers – and remember to Drink Responsibly! ~
