Memorial Day and Book Club Selection - Becoming Mrs C.S Lewis

I call myself a wanta-be writer therefore I need to crank out a blog post whether I'm in the mood to do so or not. That's what writers do…no excuses, bang the keyboard until it squeals in protest. It's Memorial Day weekend but over the years I've written over twenty posts with that theme so I'm pretty sure I've covered not only the history of the holiday itself but all the years I've decorated graves of ancestries I didn't know, the years of going to lake parties with my husband's family, the two-day mini vacations my husband and I took along Lake Michigan and, of course, the first few years I was a newly minted widow back then I was one. In more recent years I've attended the memorial services put on by the residents here on my continuum care campus. I didn't go this year because 1) I have a doctor' appointment at the same time and 2) I was glad I had a conflict so my heart and head didn't have to battle it out over going, or not. I'm not proud of my country right now and singing patriotic songs would seem hollow and insincere. 

We have a lot of veterans living here and I've heard their stories----some poignant including a widow's whose husband was a prisoner of war during the Vietnam War and some stories almost apologetic because the veteran didn't see any action. The POW was in the same brutal prison camp as John McCain and another woman living here actually wore a POW bracelet with McCain's name on it. He wasn't famous back then but it's still an amazing story to tell. Even more amazing because she's a MAGA Republican and I've thought about asking her what she thought about 45/47 besmirching McCain's military record by claiming he was only a war hero because he got captured. "I like people who weren't captured," he said. To refresh our collective memories McCain was flying a bomber that got shot down and he was ejected from the plane, landed in a lake where the locals where waiting to take him prisoner. How would President Bone Spurs have escaped from that scenario, I wonder?

This past week I've become a recluse, avoiding all contact with my neighbors. Not for any particular reason other than I was involved in a couple of activities that were relaxing and satisfying. I was working on a custom paint-by-number of my great-great-nephew while listening to a book on my Kindle. It's a book club selection titled Becoming Mrs. Lewis by Patti Cathahan. It's a methodically researched, historical fiction about a friendship that turned into a love affair between C.S. Lewis (best known in America for his Chronicles of Narnia series for children) and poet Joy Davidson. I've never read anything by either author but I'm always curious about books that presume to explain a writer's methods, where their ideas came from and their work ethics. In this case there is plenty of documentation that Patti was able to access and after reading the Author's Notes in the back of the book I'm awed by the research that when in to this novel. Though in reading the reviews I learned that opinions of the book swing wide in book club circles. Our discussion comes next Monday.

If you've ever read the Narnia Chronicles to your kids I'm sure you would like this book on a deeper level than I did. Even so, it held my interest. Fans of his books and her poems will love the frequent quotes that Patti uses in their dialogues and the descriptions of the actual locations that inspired Lewis. Christians will also enjoy some of their discussions---she was an atheist at the beginning of the book and Lewis was well known for his apologetic religious writing. I didn't know what an "apologetic religious writer" was and in case you don't either here is how google explains it: "It involves providing arguments, both positive and negative, to support a specific religious faith and respond to objections or criticisms. Apologetic writing aims to make a case for the truth and value of a particular religious system, often using logical reasoning, historical evidence, and philosophical arguments." Lewis and Davidson were pen-pals for several years before meeting in person and they debated topics too deep for me to care about. But Patti Callkahan is a skilled writer who had a good sense of how much religion she sprinkled in the pages. I finished the book neither converted nor offended. Silly me, at first I thought maybe the universe was putting this book in my path to convert me before I get too old to know the difference between milk and orange juice. 

After finishing the book I tried reading quotes from The Chronicles of Narnia looking for some that might seem familiar, things that might have seeped into every day life the way lines from Lewis Carroll's children book Alice in Wonderland or Frank Baum's The Wizard of Oz have. Do people of a certain age go around quoting lines from Narnia, I wondered, like I've done all my life with lines from Oz? If there is, I couldn’t find them.

Lions, and tigers and bears, oh my!

Toto, I have a feeling we're not in Kansas anymore.

There's no place like home.

And there is no better place to spend Memorial Day like the cottage where I spent the first 18 summers of my life. And that's where I'm going today after I finish this post. We'll grill hot dogs, eat potato salad and apple pie followed by the Opening Volley of Summer---putting the dock in the lake. How was your Memorial Day weekend? ©

                                       

Binging Netflixs, TV Habits and a Trip to Memory Lane

I don't watch a lot of television which is a stark change from my viewing habits before moving to this continuum care campus in 2021. Back in my other life I had three TVs---one in the bedroom, the living room and the kitchen---and often they'd all be turned on to mostly CNN from morning to night. To say I was a news junkie would be an understatement. And I loved the freedom of not having to sit in one place to watch something. I could do my housework, work on my computer or hobbies, be at the beck and call of my disabled husband and take care of life's other requirements without missing a thing on TV. 

There are several reasons why I no longer watch TV as much as I used to do. Aside from there being a lot of things to do on campus, liking going to a staff retirement party this afternoon and a Memorial Day presentation tomorrow, I hate the fact that we only have one TV hook up to the free cable aka they didn't wire the building so people can have cable TV in the bedrooms. If we want to pay $145 we can get an exterior cable strung around our living room and through the wall to the bedroom but I'd hate the visual of a cable going along the baseboard and up around the door frame. It seems too ghetto to me. So in the bedroom I have a TV with a modern version of the old rabbit ears but it has limited channels to watch and try as I might there is no way to set both TVs to the same program at the same time. At bedtime in my old life, I always watched the late night comedians but I can't do that here. So my bedroom TV has morphed into a binge-watching Netflix box. Question: Is it just me, or has Netflix been offering fewer new choices in the last couple of months? 

Currently I'm binging a show with four seasons and I'll polish off the last season this coming week so I’m looking for suggestions for another binge worthy series. I like political stuff like Madame Secretary and Designated Survivor, crime stuff like Black List, White Collar, The Recruit, Night Desk and Ozark. I love law series, too, like Suits and Your Honor. Sci-fi like Roswell and Lost. Quirky stuff like Shameless, In the Dark, Loudermilk, Hab and Lenard, Six Feet Under, North of North, This is Us and Dead to Me. I've also binged on more "normal" choices like Grey Anatomy, Bridgeton, Outlander, and Downton Abby. I say 'more normal choices" because, with the exception of Downton Abby, I've yet to find any of my fellow residents who have the same tastes in Netflixs that I do, and with regular TV I've only found one person who likes American Idol and Shark Tank which are the only shows besides cable news that I currently watch.

Though, it goes without saying that my Liberal Ladies, Tuesday night dinner companions and I all consume a lot of the same news shows. I love our Tuesday dinners. There are twelve of us with three others who would love to join us but we can't make reservations for more than twelve, so they fill in when someone can't make it. Speaking of large groups there are sixteen Catholics living here and recently I landed at a lunch table with five-six of them. They were bashing the new pope. It seems that before becoming the pope he criticized the moral fiber of the president. I had to bite my lip from asking how they can justify accepting a different standard of morality for 45/47 than they do for the common man on the street. Aren't we all supposed to do our best to follow the Ten Commandants and do on to others as we would have them do on to us? "The pope needs to stay in his own lane," one of the ladies said and I came close to saying, "I personally think the pope was voted in for precisely the reason you don't like him." The Catholic hierarchy sees the evil that Trump is spreading around the world and they want a pope who isn't afraid to challenge him. I doubt that all the Catholics living here are MAGAs, but at least six are. How they can admire 45/47 and bash the pope is beyond my understanding---all the while thinking of themselves as good Christians.

Back on Topic: My current binge worthy show is Good Girls. It reminds me of Ozark because the three women who are the lead characters find themselves getting dragged deeper and deeper into a life of crime only the show is billed as a comedy so it's lighter viewing than Ozark. My favorite character is Rio played by Manny Montana---a porn star name if I've ever heard one which I'm quick to admit that that's an area I know very little about. Linda Lovelace is the only name I can come up with and she must be as old as dirt by now. And dare I say our First Lady did her share of soft porn before she hooked The Donald. Anyway, there is something about Manny's gravelly voice or the way he moves that gets to me. He's a crime boss in the series so it's not the character he plays that I like and he's not what I'd call good especially looking either. God only knows why I like the guy but if you watch the video below and have a theory let me know. 

There's no smooth segway I can use to change the subject so I'll just do it. I've been walking down Memory Lane this past week. It all started when a great-nephew on my husband's side of the family reached out to me on Facebook. He wanted my address to send me an invitation to his daughter's graduation party. Mike was one of the few people who offered to help after Don's stroke and who actually followed through in a very real and meaningful way. He took on the volunteer role of being a 'personal guide' in a wheelchair hunter's group that I got Don involved in. It freed me up from doing it and it let Don do a 'guy thing' with other guys. Along with my address I sent him a couple of hunting related stories that I originally shared in a blog posts. He loved them and asked for more so I've been binge-reading old posts and feeding them to Mike who asked if he could share them with his older brother. Don was their favorite uncle and it's been nice, having Don come alive again.  ©

                              Short pool scene from Good Girls.

If you are already a fan of Good Girls, you'll like this longer mashup titled The Hotness of Beth and Rio

Getting my First Passport, the SAVE Act and other Confessions

I've never had a passport. It's been decades since I was out of the country---to Mexico, Canada, and the Caribbean Islands---and back then we didn't need them. The trip to Mexico was in the 1965. I had a cousin who lived in California and on a visit he took us down to Tijuana where he helped me haggle over the price of a gold watch on a chain that I still have today. It's the size of a silver dollar and has Roman numerals on its face. Tourist grade, I'm sure, but very ornate and pretty and I almost lost it when I took it off during a one-night stand. It was the early '70s and what can I say, we singles did stuff like that. I'm not proud of it but facts are facts. 

The next morning the guy was decent enough to come to the place where I worked to return the watch. He thought it was an antique. I didn't even know it was missing but I was grateful to get it back. I have vivid memories of that return because at the time I was wearing custom-made, orthopedic shoes that laced up the side and they were so ugly the guy couldn't help saying that out loud. In my work clothes I was dressed nothing like my ultra ego from the night before. She might have been 'hot' like the kids have re-branded 'sexy' today. But seeing me in the light of the day, without the glow of a disco ball casting a spell over us, he probably drove way that morning thinking he had more to drink the night before than he thought. Heck, my transformation might have even been responsible for him giving up drinking. If I could rewrite my personal history that's the way I'd end that scene. Note I didn't say I'd rewrite the one-night stand out of drama. Sometimes what we regret doing in life teaches us valuable lessons.

My trip to Canada took place in the late 1970s and we didn't need passports then either. We were just passing through on our way back from Colorado taking the scenic, long route home to Michigan. Mostly what I remember about that trip was that for some reason the people up there all seemed to know we weren't Canadians. To us we didn't look or sound different. I'm old and I also think I might have been to Canada on a trip with my parents when I was a kid but without photographic proof your guess is as good as mine. I gave my oldest niece custody of my folk's photos albums and I'll need a field trip to her cottage to verify my vague memory of standing next to a Canadian flag in a circle of colorful flowers…well, I assume they were colorful. The photo---if it exists---is in black and white. I joke about how at my age when I learn or experience new things old things need to fall out of my brain to make room. Unfortunately, that's probably more truth than humorous banner to cover up my failing memory.

I was online recently reading an article about how the 45/47 administration is trying to make it harder for women to vote with the Safeguard American Voter Eligibility Act (SAVE Act) that passed the House and is working its way through Senate hearings. It will require women who've changed their names after getting married to jump through an extra hoop to prove citizenship. A birth certificate and marriage certificate won't be enough. You'll have to apply to the state for proof that you applied to change your last name to your husband's, no matter how long ago a woman was married. Lord help her if she's been married more than once. Even if the SAVE Act becomes law that part won't effect me because I didn't change my name when I got married. 

But the article got me to thinking because it will require certain kinds of picture IDs I don't have to comply with the SAVE Act as it's written now. Thus was born the burning desire to get a Passport Card. A Passport Card is different (and cheaper) than a regular passport and will get you into Canada, Mexico, Bermuda and the Caribbean but not onto international flights to go else where which is fine by me. My traveling days are all but over but I do like the idea that with a Passport Card I could run away to Canada if the USA goes all out Handmaid's Tale on us. And I also harbor a daydream of going on one of the Caribbean cruises that are filled with thousands of Mahjong players. It's a dream I know I'll never follow through on, unless I win the lotto and can invite a village to go with me.

I know what you're thinking. You're thinking an Enhanced Driver's License ID can also get me to Mexico and Canada and be a second photo ID. I missed the deadline to get one that is now required to get on international flights and I don't have the REAL ID either that as of May seventh is now required for all domestic air travel and to get into federal facilities and on military bases. It would have been smarter and cheaper to get the Enhanced ID instead of a Passport Card. The Passport Card and REAL ID can be used interchangeably, but the DMV (where you have to go to get the EID and RID) is busier and harder to get to than our city hall where I have to go to get the Passport Card. That made the choice easier for me. I downloaded the passport application online, got a friend here to take the required photo---not an easy task since it has to be a two inch square photo with a one inch face showing. 

When the Passport Card gets here I'll feel better, knowing I'll be able to produce two forms of citizenship documentation if/when the SAVE Act becomes law. (And I think it will, given that the Republicans are in control of the Senate.) While we're being distracted by 45/47 daily shenanigans, like posting photos of himself dressed like the Pope on the White House account, the creators of Project 2025 are quietly working behind the scenes to freeze as many women out of the next election as they can. ©

 Until Next Wednesday.

Derby Hats, Horses and Mint Juleps

All eyes were on Churchill Downs Racetrack on Saturday including those belonging to most of us living on my continuum care campus. We had a Kentucky Derby hat making contest and picnic followed by a viewing party where we sipped mint juleps. I'm always up for anything artsy-fartsy so I of course I entered the contest, although I must admit that I resented spending money on something I'd only wear once. After seeing some of the other entries I knew I didn't have a chance of winning. But that was okay. I decided that I could add a long ribbon to my hat after the contest and the resulting hat now hangs on my door as summer decor. Resentment mitigated. 

When the contest was being discussed one night over dinner, the Art Professor asked why we had to vote on the best hat and award first, second and third place prizes. "Just the experience of creating the hats should be enough." I was quick to reply with, "Speak for yourself! We're too old for participation trophies." Everyone laughed and that shot her idea down without another word from anyone. I'll admit it, I'm competitive when it comes to arts and crafts---and mahjong. I wanted to win but I thought the better hats took their rightful places in the contest. (Photos below.) The woman in charge of the contest gave us all a small plastic horse for entering so we did get 'participation trophies' of sorts. You've got to love the humor around a place like this. 

If you're a long time reader here, you might remember two Christmas's ago when the Art Professor caused a controversy with her entry in the gingerbread house contest. It was a bombed-out house in the Gaza Strip that needed and came with a written explanation of what we were looking at. Some people thought it had no place in a Christmas themed event. Some thought it was god-awful ugly and I thought it was poorly executed but there is a reason for that: the art professor is going blind. I give her a lot of credit, though, she keeps making art and participates in anything creative around here. Her current project is crocheting mushrooms that she wants to display on a rotting log. Big ones, little ones. A couple of them look like penises that had us all laughing our guts out at lunch one day. She couldn't see the resemblance or didn't care which made it even funnier. She loves it when her art creates a buss.  

Back on topic: This week I started watching a documentary on the owners of derby race horses and I quit half way through. What a pretentious, egotistical, money sucking business to be in. I suppose if you have that kind of money to throw around the ego and pretension comes with the territory. The seven richest horse owners are worth in the billions, not millions and most of those owners didn't seem to love horses, they just liked what the horses could do for them. Race horses aren't like other horses. They are investments that are trained, pampered, spit-shined and polished to perfection and sold off or discarded to the breeding farms when they fail to bring home the trophies.

Side note here: Did you know that, Black Beauty---a book written like an autobiography of a horse that passes through many owners---is credited with bringing about an awareness that animals have feelings and it started a movement to treat animals more humanly? I didn't. One reviewer put it this way: "Anna Sewell's only book changed the world, alike to Charles Dickens 'Oliver Twist' to child labor, or Charlotte Brontë's 'Shirley' to feminism and the 'women-question.'" I thought it was just a book most people in my age bracket read in childhood. One thing for sure, it had an impact on my favorite sister-in-law who had a lot of Derby watch parties. She loved the Kentucky Derby for the horses and the hats, the upper class pageantry of it all. 

My only real interest in the Derby comes from one of my all-time favorite books and movies, Seabiscuit. It's the true story of a once neurotic horse that turned into a sports icon, a horse that became the single biggest news generator in 1938 topping Hitler, Mussolini and FDR. And of course, I'll admit to once being romanced by the sight of all the beautiful horse farms one sees when traveling through Kentucky. One of my upstairs neighbors is from Kentucky and volunteers daily at an equestrian therapy ranch near-by. She misses having her own horses and is willing to muck out stalls just to be near some. In my experience all little girls have a love affair with horses at one point in time---even if they're in the form of unicorns. She just never out grew hers. Mine came attached to a crush I had on a trail guide who worked at a riding stable near our cottage. He was a friend of my brother's and we often could ride for free if there weren't any paying customers. But every time any bare skin of mine touched a horse I broke out in hives. So after the second summer of doctoring my hives Calamine Lotion and cold tea my mom made me quit riding. That was okay with me because by then my crush was crushing on another girl who he ended up marrying.

The party was fun. After the judging we all wore our hats and others not in the contest wore assorted styles of hats, too, even some of the guys dressed up in hats and sport coats. But if I never have another mint julep it will be too soon. They were so strong I didn't think I'd be able to walk the 150 feet to my front door...had I actually drank the whole thing. ©

Until Next Wednesday....

  My is the hat is in the photo at the top of this post.

Won 3rd prize and the hat I voted for.

 

The hat on the top took 2nd prize.

The black hat took first place and it looks better in person than in the photo.