FINDING A PART OF MY CHILDHOOD

Ann and I were at an antique store a few weeks back, and we discovered a box in the shape of a Dickens' Village house. It made us stop and think about the paper village we had as children, and we both agreed it would be fun to find that again.

I remember getting it when I was very young, and I remember my dad punching out all the cardboard pieces for me, as well as assembling them ... and I remember them sitting on the coffee table and underneath the Christmas tree ... and I remember having an absolute blast playing with all the people and houses as Christmas music compilation records (handed out every Christmas by Southeastern Michigan Gas Company or Corning Glass or one of those companies) played on the stereo turntable.

Welcome to my warm fuzzy feelings of Christmas!

And then I'm jet-propelled, head-long into Christmases past with mom's glittery snowflakes and giraffes on the tree along side glass baubles that, for those that have survived the years and moves, still hang on their more recent trees. And I remember green Christmas wreath cookies on Christmas Eve, and houses filled with family and Christmas cooking smells and presents and just warm and happy feelings. I remember fruit cake, that I still don't like, and Liebkooken (sure I didn't spell that correctly) and garland and fires in the fire place and snowy days and toasty nights and skiing and hot chocolate and the anticipation of a merry surprise from Santa on Christmas morning!

I just love Christmas!

BACK ROAD SCENES -- FALL 2009

MISS MURRAY'S M&Ms

LATE BREAKING NEWS!!! These are shots of our FIRST PLACE AWARD WINNING door ... just announced this afternoon. My class designed the door in class with me and the ceiling tile in Art with Mrs. Jaques. I've got some super creative kiddos, and I'm soooo proud of them! Yay to Murray's M&Ms!!!!!

MUST THE ECONOMY RAIN ON EVERY PARADE

I've been pondering ... spending lots of time ruminating over this ... I wonder if the reason why Christmas seemed to start back in September is that perhaps, just maybe, people were trying desperately to put something good and sweet and lovely and cheery and joyous out there in our otherwise depressed social consciousness.

I am sure it had absolutely nothing to do with greed ... right? Christmas isn't about greed, right?

Stupid consumerism!

BECAUSE I KNOW THIS WILL ANNOY THE MATERNAL HALF OF THE PARENTAL UNITS

I spent my weekend (when not running all over the place) sipping Egg Nog and listening to Christmas music on the radio.

Yes, it's sick, but at least I've not put up the Christmas tree. That is strictly forbidden until the day after Thanksgiving!

THE MANY FACES OF TROUBLE

SHE IS NOT AT ALL HELPFUL WITH THE LAUNDRY

HAUNTED

I took these pictures on my last week of Fall Break in October. I thought I'd post them on Halloween ... sort of my nod to all things haunted and spooky. Except that I forgot. Oops!

So what if it's now two weeks past Halloween!? I figure with all the Christmas stuff that started going up in September, I'm allowed a little delayed posting ... it evens out in the end, I think.

Behold ... the spooky remains of the Old Taylor Distillery on Glenn's Creek Road.

ALL HAIL TO THOSE THAT SERVE(D)

A number of months back ... quite possibly, close to a year ago ... my father got word from Veteran's Affairs, that my grandfather would be receiving the Bronze Star posthumously. Then he got another confirmation that perhaps it wouldn't be the Bronze Star, but some other honor bestowed upon my grandfather for valor in combat or meritorious service ... it was all so confusing.

Then, about a month ago, my dad got the call that he could go to the Veteran's Affairs office in Battle Creek, Michigan, that the award was there. He could pick it up any time.

Guess what?

It was, indeed, the Bronze Star!

We don't know, at this point, why the Bronze Star was given to Grandpa ... the records are sketchy, and it takes months and months and months to get the slightest bit of confirmation as to the reasons for such an award. All we know at this point is that he was awarded it, and we're all very proud of him for it.

Grandpa never talked about his 18 months in the Pacific Campaign. In my lifetime, he'd only mentioned it in passing ... a snippet here, a quick Camp Roberts story there. But to discuss, for any length of time, his tour in the Philippines and Japan (his company was one of the first to land in Japan post-atomic bomb), he just wouldn't ... ever.

As an adult, I asked my grandmother if I could see the letters Grandpa wrote her when he was over there ... surely she'd saved them. They might make an amazing story I could write. "Your grandfather made me burn them when he got home," she said quietly.

"Grandpa!" I was sad and shocked by this. "Why did you do that? What a legacy to have?"

He got agitated and replied, "Why would I want that crap as a reminder lying around. Not much of a legacy."

I never asked him again. Clearly, some wounds never really heal ...

As I remember my grandfather during my childhood, I remember him as a quiet, reserved man. He kept his feelings in check for the most part. What I didn't realize was that he was a living hero in our midst, and he never let on to any of us. Not once ... More than likely, he didn't think of himself as one nor would he have cared to take that title on ...

This Veterans Day, while our entire fourth grade leads the attendees at the Veterans Day Ceremony here in Frankfort in the Pledge of Allegiance, I will be thinking of my grandpa and his unwavering service to this country ... I will be thinking about all of our servicemen and women around the world right now, sacrificing for the freedoms I enjoy every single day of my life ... I will be quietly thanking them all ...