Independence Day by Bonnie Le Hamilton

 

In a few days, people all over this country will be lining the streets waiting for the parade. That’s all good, but the last few times I’ve attended a parade, I’ve witnessed way too many people sitting and chatting with their neighbors when the color guard is going past!

THE COLOR GUARD! As in the most precious symbol of our wonderful country and healthy young adults are sitting and visiting with their neighbors. Worse still they are not teaching their children to respect the flag.

This isn’t about who is president, or the color of our skins, this is about the land of the free! This is about The Bill of Rights and the Declaration of Independence and this about all the men who gave their lives for that independence, and the men and women who followed in their footsteps and stood up for this country with their very lives!

And this isn’t about who was born here, or even how or when our ancestors arrived here, because, let’s face it, unless you are 100% Native American, you have immigrants somewhere on your family tree.

Konnie and I have lots of immigrants on our family tree starting with the Mayflower and ending with our great-grandfather father who left Denmark by ship then crossed this country by any means possible eventually arriving in Salt Lake as part of a handcart company. We have ancestors who fought for independence, and relatives who were at Pearl Harbor on December 7, 1941.

Our husbands were both serving in the Navy during the first Gulf War. In fact, I am related to five men who served in the military during that war.

And if I could stand up long enough for the color guard to pass, I would, because of my ancestors who came over on the Mayflower searching for their religious freedom, for my ancestors who fought for independence from England, and for every member of the military who gave their lives so I can live my life today the way I want to live it.

But I can’t stand that long, so I’ll sit up as straight and tall as I can with my right hand over my heart and keep it there until the color guard passes me. And if they play the national anthem – I’ll sing along!

Yeah, I won’t stand, but like I said I can’t.

For all those who can, and don’t, I’d like to ask why? Why don’t you honor your ancestors who gave up everything to be here? Why don’t you honor your ancestors who gave their lives for you to have the freedoms you have today?

If not for those ancestors, we wouldn’t even have the stars and stripes. If not for their sacrifice we wouldn’t have Francis Scott Key’s words, “Oh Say Can We See?”, and we couldn’t have Irving Berlin’s “God Bless America!” or Lee Greenwood’s “God Bless the USA!”

And speaking of Berlin, don’t think for one second, he was “Born in the USA” because he wasn’t. He was born in Russia! His family escaped when the Czar was killing off Jews. His family came to America for the same reason the Puritans came to America, for religious freedom!

He was a naturalized citizen of this country, and he loved it. He wrote “God Bless America” because of his love for this country.

But then Greenwood and Key did the same thing. They expressed their feeling in their wonderful heartfelt songs just like Berlin, and frankly, I love all three songs. They’re great. They express their love for this country.

And saluting the color guard is showing our love for this country.

If you are not saluting it, why are you celebrating our freedom?

What is Independence Day to you?

Just fireworks, parades, and family picnics, and nothing else?

Has it no meaning to you?

I admit, as a kid I thought all the hoopla was for my birthday, but I was a kid. A naïve child. I’m not a child anymore, and I’ve had plenty of people over the years teach me the true meaning of this holiday.

I especially love learning the story behind the words in our national anthem. The most significant part is that men DIED to keep that flag flying. They gave their lives to hold up the flag of a country in its very infancy, and their descendants can’t salute that flag?

Frankly, I’m outraged and offended!

If you don’t love this country, don’t celebrate its birth! Don’t attend the parade or watch the fireworks. In fact, move to another country.

But if you stay, when the flag passes, stand, put your right hand over your heart, and salute it!

On a lighter note, happy birthday to Konnie, and me!

Happy writing everyone!

Of Reminders and Befuddled Brains by Konnie Enos

Yesterday, about 4:30 in the afternoon, just after I’d finished my eighth assignment, and decided I could take a break. One thing that needed to be done was checking my emails.

I went to check my main email account and found one telling me I had something on my schedule for the next day. I stared at it for several beats trying to figure out who sent it and what it was for. I wracked my brain for anything I had to do that someone could be reminding me of.

I mean I knew I had homework to do. I’d also just finished making sure I had my list of assignments to work on tomorrow including that two of them were due and needed to be my top priority.

I then remembered I’d signed up for a zoom meeting. Since my planner was open, I glanced at prepared to turn the page from the current date.

I have a Franklin planner with daily pages so part of each day’s planner pages includes an hourly schedule. There was only one thing in this part of my planner.

The zoom meeting.

Not only that but it ended at 4:30. Please note the time this was occurring above.

I missed it.

Heavy sigh. I’d been looking forward to it too.

So then what else do I have going?

I’m flummoxed.

I turn back to this concerning email to see if I can glean any clue as to what I have to attend from it.

I see the date of this event and that it’s to me but nothing else is sinking into my brain.

Then I finally perceived who was sending me this email.

Essentially me.

It was coming from my Google Calendar.

This just confuses me more. I haven’t added anything to my Google Calendar all year and the only reminder I could remember setting up was sent the day before. It’s a weekly reminder. So it couldn’t be that.

Still perplexed about what this is referring to I go to pick up my planner but stop before I do.

My due tomorrow assignments, which I’d just finished confirming I still had to do, are always due on Wednesday. So what reminders do I have on Google Calendar for Wednesday?

Oh. Post.

Breathing a sigh of relief, I mentally note that in the morning I’ll have to post on Facebook and Instagram that our weekly blog is up. Only then did I realize that the email does say it’s a reminder to post.

Duly noted. I can remember to do that.

Now that I’m not confused I manage to remember that I have not one, but two meetings scheduled for the next evening.

The first one has been added to my schedule since April. When I started school. It’s a zoom meeting for one of my online classes.

The other is another zoom meeting though this one is for Henderson Writer’s Group. Since our election last month, I’m now on the board, and I have to attend my first official board meeting.

I can’t forget either one of those either. They are both important.

Then I remember that the next day being Wednesday also means it's garbage day for us.

So my to-do list now includes, posting in the morning on Facebook and Instagram, attending my class and the board meeting, and reminding either Jerry or Royce to take the cans out tonight.

As I think this Melinda comes in and asks Jerry to take the cans out because Royce is already asleep. Jerry reminded. Check.

Though as early as it is and since he didn’t get right up and do it, I’ll probably have to remind him before he goes to bed.

Now quite content with having remembered everything that is on my schedule for the next day, I go to continue checking my email.

Oh no! Wednesday! Post! It’s my turn!

I don’t just have to post on Facebook and Instagram, I have to write the whole post!

Okay, back to wracking my brain. This time for an idea.

All I can say for today is I managed to finish eight assignments while missing a meeting I had scheduled. Nor did I do the tasks I have to do for Henderson Writer’s Group or my family’s finances. Making two more things to add to Wednesday’s to-do list.

At least I remembered with enough time to get something written, even if it means struggling with finding a topic and then finding the words to convey it in the short expanse of a blog post.

Here’s to less bewildering days and clearer minds.

Also Happy 245 years America!

Smile. Make the day a brighter day.

Murphy's Law and Making Plans by Bonnie Le Hamilton

 

Never put off for tomorrow what you can do today. I’ve heard this a lot in my life and I finally figured out why it’s a good idea. You see, it isn’t about getting things done sooner, nor is it about being organized, it's about Murphy’s Law and the fact that we can’t predict the future!

I.E. it is about the best-laid plans, not only could something come up to waylay our plans, Murphy’s Law says something WILL do so.

Case in point, I could have written my post on Monday. I told myself, I would write it on Monday, but Monday is a long day, so first I was going to work on some crafts.

Yeah, you guessed it, I spent the whole day doing crafts.

Oh well, I could still write my post yesterday after work.

Yeah right.

I started working on it when my ankle started bothering me. Now I know what that irritation is, what causes it, and how to combat it. I’ve dealt with it for years now. The problem is how to deal with it is to lay down and put my feet above my heart. Can’t very well sit up and type in that position.

When I finally thought to mention something to poor Konnie about me being a bit behind, she freaked out because she was busy it and was already late.

I had to assure her I had started it, just hadn’t been able to finish it.

Such is life.

We can’t predict the future and despite my best-laid plans, I can’t predict when my edema is going to act up. For that matter, none of us can predict when a friend will drop by or call needing our help or just to visit, mothers can’t predict some emergency with one (or more) of her kids. We just don’t know what could, and probably will go wrong forcing a change in our plans when we least expect it and can’t afford it.

Though on the bright side, it does give me ideas about how I can torture my characters. Though that is what we are supposed to do. Never give your characters what they want the most! At least until the end of the story. Waylay, them. Force them in a different direction, even show them that isn’t what they really want.

Too bad I haven’t figured out that sort of stuff can happen in real life too or I wouldn’t be sitting here right now trying to write my post and not pay too close attention to the clock while still keeping in mind when my post is supposed to go up!

Yeah, life is unpredictable, but honestly, I should have factored in something like this happening since I haven’t been able to wear compression socks since that fateful day, I didn’t notice Patches near me and ended up slamming his tail in the car door.

Patches, being a cat, let me know my mistake by attacking my leg.

And me, being diabetic, well, I heal slowly. My leg became infected and while it is now on the mend, the infection dealt with, that area of my leg still chafes at just regular socks covering it.

At least now it isn’t sore and red and I don’t wince in pain when it merely brushes against something else.

Life goes on.

Though I admit I’m glad I no longer have to daily clean the area with alcohol wipes and apply a generous amount of triple antibiotic. Then again, I’m also glad I didn’t end up in the hospital, and the sores have healed. It could have been worse!

For one thing, my edema could be so bad that even with having my leg elevated all night it could still be swollen right now.

Which wouldn’t be good, because then I’d have trouble getting to work today.

Yeah, things could be a lot worse.

And at least I’m not so far behind that I’m not getting my post finished on time, unlike Konnie did last week

And she had thought she might not be able to get it done. I had told her if she couldn’t manage it by Sunday night to let me know, so I had time to write something. Guess what she forgot to do.

She didn’t even remember to contact me until the post should have already been up. Then again, she was very busy and still is, so it’s a good thing I could get something written this week.

Anyway, happy writing everyone!

Of Busy Schedules and Forgetting by Konnie Enos

 

I'm so sorry, but my schedule this week was so packed I did not have time to write my post before now. I also completely forgot to mention to Bonnie that I wasn't going to be able to get my post up. This resulted in neither of us writing a post and when we realized it both of us were running late to get out the door. This meant neither of us had time to post anything. 

Now that it is late in the day, I've finally cleared my schedule, for a few minutes so I thought I'd let our loyal readers know we have not forgotten about our regular blog post, life just got in the way.

To give you something cute to look at I've again used the picture of my son's puppy who sadly, and without warning, passed away this last week. He will be missed (well at least by those of us not annoyed by his puppy exuberance).

Smile. Make the day a brighter day.

Panic and Writing by Bonnie Le Hamilton

 

Do you want to hear a panic-inducing story?

I have a sister-in-law who lives across town from me. Said sister-in-law, Shirley, has major health issues, sometimes has seizures, and has been known to fall out of bed or just plain fall down, injuring herself.

As I am geographically her closest family who can drive, I am her emergency contact.

Cue Tuesday morning the day after Memorial Day:

I was getting ready for work when my phone rings. It’s Shirley’s caregiver because she isn’t answering her door buzzer or phone. “Is she with you?”

The young lady had been informed by her boss that Shirley was going camping with her sister over the holiday weekend.

Let me point out, SISTER not sister-in-law.

Yes, I live the closest. Yes, I help her all I can. And yes, I am her emergency contact, but I am not her sister, even if she says I am.

My husband had three sisters. Shirley is the youngest, but they are all still alive, and the oldest and her husband did take Shirley camping over the weekend.

And the last I spoke to Shirley on Monday evening, they were on the road, heading here to Pocatello.

I tried calling Shirley. It went straight to voicemail. (Which honestly should have been a clue. When Shirley is just not answering, it rings a few times.)

I tried calling her big sister, Vera-Ellen. It also went straight to voicemail, but now I’m in such a panic it doesn’t dawn on me they could still be together and in the same place. It just didn’t occur to me. I didn’t even consider it at that time.

No, in my panic I called my boss and told her I have a small family emergency and I may be a little late for work, then I hightail it across town and let myself into Shirley’s apartment, worried sick that I might have to call the ambulance.

She wasn’t even there!

I finally call the oldest of Tom’s younger brothers, Cliff, who was also with Vera-Ellen, her husband, and Shirley at Bear Lake over the weekend.

He knew that Vera-Ellen and her husband were planning to go to Scout Mountain Monday night.

Great. There is no service at Scout Mountain.

DUH! Their phones are going straight to voicemail. Cliff hadn’t heard that Shirley was going with them to Scout Mountain, but they were last known to be together.

Adding all that together means Shirley is at Scout Mountain, and I might just wring some necks when I get ahold of them.

Shirley finally called me just after five p.m. yesterday.

Yeah, she’s fine. Just after my last phone conversation with Shirley, Vera-Ellen and Dave decided they didn’t have time to take Shirley home and get up that mountain before dark, so they dragged her along with them! Without letting anyone know!

I mean, Shirley tried, but again, no phone service up there.

Had Shirley called me back right after she learned of their decision to take her with them, she would have informed me, but she didn’t even try to call until after they were up there.

Come on! It wasn’t like Shirley was driving, she can’t. She could have called before they got out of range. Shirley called while they stopped at a store. She could have called me back while they heading out of that parking lot.

She didn’t.

Shirley has Early-onset Alzheimer’s she could have forgotten until she got to Scout Mountain, and clearly forgot there is no service up there, but why didn’t Vera-Ellen and her husband consider it earlier?

As far as I know, there isn’t anything wrong with their memory.

And it isn’t like they’ve never been up there before. I’ve been up there with them. In fact, Konnie has been up there with them. We all know there is no service up there.

But I can tell you, I now know how it feels to panic like that.

Now I just need a story idea to write it in.

By the way, do any of you ever use things that really happened to you in your stories?

I have. Though I changed a few important details so while the feelings were the same, the backstory and events were totally different.

I know Konnie has too.

And that’s still funny.

The first time I read a certain scene Konnie wrote, I went, “Oh, man! Poor Jerry!”

I just knew Konnie had done that to her poor husband.

However, someone in Konnie’s critique group around that time, told Konnie the scene was unrealistic and would never happen in real life. She insisted Konnie needed to delete.

Clearly, she’s never met Jerry!

Anyway, happy writing everyone!