Today, Continued

Red Shoes
Originally uploaded by suzipaw.

Now these are red shoes! No Bozo cracks, please. Luckily, the Crabby Cobbler wasn't there when I picked these up--it was a very nice lady who I suspect was his mother. (Perhaps he's crabby because this was his parents' business and he never wanted to be a cobbler, but he felt he didn't have a choice and/or wanted to honor his parents so by gum he took over when his father keeled over with a heart attack and it was the only life his mother ever knew and he's doing it all for her since he's a good son but so help him God as soon as she passes he's selling it all for a sailboat in Jamaica.)

*****

Did you know that Mothers Day was originally called Mothers' Peace Day? Here's an excerpt of Julia Ward Howe's original proclamation, which she wrote in 1870:

From the voice of a devastated Earth a voice goes up with
Our own. It says: "Disarm! Disarm!
The sword of murder is not the balance of justice."
Blood does not wipe our dishonor,
Nor violence indicate possession.
As men have often forsaken the plough and the anvil at the summons of war,
Let women now leave all that may be left of home
For a great and earnest day of counsel.

Mother's Day didn't become a holiday until 1914. I wonder when "Peace" was excised? Was it because of World War I or II, I wonder, when war was more "right"?

*****

Still thinking about my trip to Wilbur to see Grandma. I brought home one of the little local papers to read. It has ads for jobs, used coveralls, cars, lots of livestock. My favorite reads: "Farm fresh goat's milk--tastes good, not goaty! Farm fresh eggs! Farm fresh frozen rabbit meat, or live rabbit! Colt for sale $100, you catch!" It also has jokes, puzzles, and various directories, including an area church directory. There are a lot of churches in Wilbur.

I did go up to the cemetery while I was there to visit Grandpa's headstone and take a few moments to think of him. It's a spectacular spot. The old part of the cemetery has large and almost exotic-looking trees, standing like an oasis in the flat wheat fields. It's on a bit of a rise, so there's a good view of the surrounding countryside. The lilacs where blooming, and when the wind blew just right, the scent was almost overpowering. Robins kept an eye on me, flitting from headstone to headstone as I walked down the paths. Grandma mentioned when I told her I'd been to the cemetery that she would worry about being accosted by a cougar there--apparently big cats have been sighted in the area. Luckily I didn't think of that while I was visiting. But in hindsight, the idea of a big handsome cougar draped over the limb of a pine tree seemed charming, a strong spirit watching over the departed.


*****

Hawk Tales, part two: As I was driving home yesterday, a hawk and its oriole heckler winged low across the highway right in front of my car. The oriole zoomed right up to the hawk and--I swear--landed on the back of the hawk and rode it for a few seconds. At least, that's what it looked like from 50 miles an hour.

*****

M and I are back where we started--horizontal and respectively belaptopped--chesttopped, in his case. And the house is significantly less dusty and filled with animal hair. (Yes, it was a little silly to feel my heart tightening when I came across a big wad of Tomcat hair behind one of the chairs, but I can't help it. Still missing my Baby.) I like our homely little hovel so much more when it's clean. We really enjoyed the deck today, too--it was expensive, but we use it so much, it's worth every penny.