Patriotic Day

Patriotic Day

photo

Friday was Patriotic Day, winding up a week of different themes at Cardiac Rehab. Again, the lady on the treadmill just had to be the winner for the best costumes. Her sparkling red, white, and blue top hat left glitter around, but it looked great! A trail of fairy dust, I teased.

I wore my blue shorts and blue t-shirt with a spangled Lady Liberty. Also I wore dangly star earrings and a matching necklace. Those of you who went to HHS will remember my denim stars and stripes shirt that I wore on patriotic occasions, and also when I needed to keep warm! I loaned it to one of the therapists while we took the picture. It still comes in handy. It's too hot for the Fourth of July, which is what I bought it for, but great for cold days.

It was kind of a quiet day Friday with not as many people there. I guess some were sick and some were taking a long weekend.

Two of the therapists showed their skills with hula hoops and encouraged some of us, who were not using machines, to try their hand with the hula hoops. I thought that these things were after my time! I was grown and this was something that the kids played with, way back when!

I took my sketchbooks of my experiences, since some had said they had not seen them. But only one therapist took a little time to look at some of these sketches. They were busy helping people set machines, watching monitors, taking blood pressure, checking people in and out, taking care of some folks who didn't feel so good.

As I look around at the other people, sometimes I wonder what I'm doing there. I think I am so much better off than those who have had their chests cut open for heart surgery, are on oxygen, etc. My one little stent and high blood pressure, etc. seem pretty minor. Oh, well. It gets me out of the house and gives me something to do-playing "P.E. person"!

Hopefully, it's going to keep me from having futher problems. I'm going to be so "in shape" after "pumping iron"!

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It's one thing after another. Monday, I'm having a place cut out of my back. They did a biopsy and said they took it out before. But, last week, the dr. said it is still there and the next step is to cut it out. He said they will deaden it, and there will be lots of stitches, in two layers. They aren't going to put me to sleep. I thought that surely they would!

The dr. said that your skin is like a Pine Tree!
"What?" I thought.

"You get a little spot or imperfection and it's like a knothole in a tree. Other spots then cluster around it."

I don't like moles or knotholes in my skin. I was hoping he would take them all off, but he keeps saying, "We'll leave that one alone." So places I would like to have removed are still with me. I can't see the one he is taking off next week. I can only see a bit of a purple spot on my back, sideways in the mirror.

I just know that this"place" is from one of the sunburns I got when I was younger. In particular, I remember having a horrible sunburn, with bad blisters, when I was in high school at the end of the year.

Mrs. Sullivan, the homemaking teacher, arranged for us homemaking girls to have a day at the Country Club. It was too cold to swim, but we wore our bathing suits, hoping to swim. It was sunny, though, so we took sunbaths around the pool. I got the choice spot on the diving board. I went to sleep and spent the morning " getting a tan".

When we went into the club house to eat, then go home, my skin felt stiff and prickly. I put on my jeans for the ride home, and they really rubbed my legs.

I was staying with Pappy, then. When she saw my back and legs, she got some Hinds Honey Almond lotion to rub on my back and legs. By then, I was bright red, especially on my back side.

She put that cold lotion on me and I felt like I was going to faint. I begged her to stop and I lay on the bedroom floor. That hurt even worse because the floor was covered with a wool rug!

Blisters formed all over my back side from my legs to my neck.

That night, there was a softball game in the park, that I just had to go to. Pappy wanted me to stay at home, but I persisted. She tore white sheets for bandages to cover my burns, and fastened those with big safety pins. I had to go to the ball game, wearing those under my peasant blouse and circle skirt. But I went to the game to be with my friends, and look for cute boys! I was a bit embarrassed and a whole lot miserable with all those blisters.

Eventually, it got better, and there were more times of getting blistered while trying to make my fair skin tan over the years.

Anyway, that's what I think of when I think of these "knots" on my back and skin. It just had to be that day at the Country Club, so long ago. Plus a few other days of sunbathing.

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Plan to join the 26th World Wide Sketch Crawl Saturday Feb. 27th

in Calvert, meet at Mud Creek Pottery on Main St.

in Bryan, meet at the Clara Mounce Library at 9 a.m. (downtown)

meet by the bell, or, if it's bad weather, meet by the entrance on the south

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Grand Old Flag

She's A Grand Old Flag

8.5" x 11"

pencil

Early morning sun blazed through the tall east windows of the homemaking room as the elementary grades and their teachers gathered in the large main room. Tables and sewing machines were moved back, leaving the wooden floor open for activities.

We had already been outside for our daily flag raising ceremony around the flag pole in front of the school. And now it was time for something for just the elementary students in the basement of the school.

The homemaking room was across the hall from first and second grade classrooms. Third grade was just down the hall. Fourth grade was upstairs, and the fifth through eighth grades were in the big study hall on the second floor. Individual classrooms were also there for subjects like Social Studies and English. The third floor was reserved for high school.

We didn't say what grade or level we were in. People only had to ask what floor you were on. "I'm on the second floor!" would explain where you were in school. I often wondered where people went when they had finished all the floors!

Windows in the basement rooms started at ground level and we could see out toward the board fence and shrubs of the football field and the Gougar's farmhouse across the street behind the school. The playground with its metal swings, slide, monkey bars, and see saw, were just to the right near the football field. Two round Coca Cola signs were at each end of a long sign that indicated Wilkerson Field. The tops of the west goal post could be seen above the shrubs.

Children marched by classes into the main homemaking room. Some teachers stood near the doorway that led to the bedroom section of the homemaking department. (The bedroom is also where sick children were put until a parent could come get them. And it was where future homemakers could practice things like making up a bed properly.) Mrs. Sullivan , the homemkaing teacher, was a high school teacher so she went into the dining room area of the homemaking room and busied herself there while the elementary teachers took control of the room.

There was also a raised kitchen area with work stations, each with a little sink and a gas hot plate to complete the homemaking department. A new kitchen stove, given each year by a merchant or the electric or gas company, completed the kitchen, along with a large refrigerator.

We called the whole suite of rooms the homemaking room.

Another pair of teachers remained near the door to the hall, once we had been directed to our places.

I've shown our first grade teacher, Mrs. Koestler, at the piano. I'm not sure if she was the one playing, but, whoever it was, played and sang with gusto.

Each morning, one student was selected to carry an American flag attached to a stick and lead the students as we marched around the room. We may have begun with the Pledge of Allegiance. I'm not sure about that. I know that we did the Pledge at the flag pole.

As we marched around the room, we sang "The Star Spangled Banner"and other patriotic songs. One that stands out, to me is "She's A Grand Old Flag". I didn't really understand the words. Somehow, I thought they were singing about the children's cereal, Pablum! I was much older before I realized that it had to do with the flag.

I guess it was because it hadn't been too long since we were eating breakfast at home. And, my favorite, even when I was older, was Pablum, or, sometimes, Rice Krispies, because of Snap, Crackle and Pop. I was a very picky eater and wanted only cereal, preferably Pablum, fruit, and milk to eat. So maybe I was just thinking about how good that nice, sweet Pablum tasted before school.

After our morning program, the teachers checked to see that we each had a clean handkerchief (Kleenex were rare in those times of rationing during WWII. Maybe they had not been invented yet. People had to wash and iron their handkerchiefs each week. I remember that some people would lay the hankies flat on their kitchen stove or the bathtub to dry flat. They still had to be ironed, though. Ladies had their own dainty hankies, but, if they had a bad cold or sinus trouble, they went to a man's handkerchief, or several, as needed. ) and that our fingernails were clean and our hair had been properly combed at home. Then we marched back to our classrooms and began our day.

As I drew "She's a Grand Old Flag", I was thinking of some of our teachers and some of the students in school. None of them are specific people, but I did think of some of the clothes we wore and how different people wore their hair. And, of course, this is not all the children who were in school. They would have filled the space between the flag bearer and the other children, but I wanted to let the pianist show, along with the sideboard. And, I just got tired of adding children when I was doing the ones in the foreground. I may add a few more who were lined up back toward the door. I was having a lot of trouble seeing this as I drew, and making the lines connect or where I had put a light line and wanted to darken it. Working this small, is just really hard for me, especially the way my eyes are now. I should work larger, but I just had this paper to sketch on when I decided to do the picture.

I find it a bit odd to think of where I started on this picture. First, I did the woman at the piano, making her smaller since the room looked really big to a child. Later, when I started adding children, I started with the two girls in the foreground who appear to be talking. (That would not have happened! We might look at each other, but no talking!) We would not have had such crooked lines, either. We learned early to march correctly, using the lines in the concrete floors to stay lined up. That was good practice for when we got into band later. We still had to march together using the lines even in high school. And no talking!

I still like to hear "She's A Grand Old Flag" and other patriotic songs. And I still think about how good Pablum tasted, when I hear that song.

I don't think they have that same cereal anymore. I bought some for my daughter when she was a baby, and it wasn't the same thing. I think that Malt O Meal is about the closest thing in taste. The texture is different, though.

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I finally got to see one patriotic movie on the old movie station last night, after midnight, so I don't think it really qualifies as a Fourth of July program. "Yankee Doodle Dandy" was on with James Cagney. But nothing else after it.

I did watch reruns of the concerts in Boston in Washington D.C. I love to watch Craig Ferguson. But I wondered what happened to a big patriotic finale with the fireworks and music. (I didn't care for the musical entertainers, at all. Didn't seem to be very appropriate. Maybe they were, but I just couldn't understand what they were singing.) Craig said goodnight, and the fireworks seemed to still be going. Maybe they had a grand finale, but just ran out of time for tv. I don't know, but it wasn't very satisfying to end that way. The music that they played for the fireworks didn't go along with the Patriotic theme, except for a few snippets that they worked in of songs like "Yankee Doodle".

The Capitol Fourth at least had one patriotic medley, and had that rousing "1812 Overature" that we expect as a finale with fireworks. But, they changed and had a Marine bugle and drum concert after the "Overture". For some reason, I had to turn the tv all the way up in order to hear them, and I realized that it bothered me to not have the piccolos or flutes playing certain parts. Instead, they had mirambas playing the flute parts. I guess I felt that more because I played flute in the band. All I could think of was, "Isn't that odd!" as I whistled the flute part! (I can't blow the flute anymore, or I would have been playing along with them.)

Instead of a big finish, the fireworks were still going when the announcer said that the program would be re-run right after the end. And that was it! So strange.

But, all the thousands of people at those events seemed to be having a really good time.

Some neighbors behind us had some really good fireworks, but I worried , as always, because some of the neighbors' fireworks often end up by my house. It's very dry this year and there is a burn ban. But it has never stopped them before. I didn't notice the ones on the side of us or in front of us, though, having their usual fireworks. And those are the ones that I think always come in my yard. Maybe I was such a kill joy in the past, turning on my lights outside, when they would have fireworks, that they decided to not do it at home this year. Probably went over to the George Bush Library, or some other place to celebrate. Or maybe they just heeded the burn ban this year.

The boys had some poppers, those little things you can throw on the ground and they make a noise like a firecracker. I don't think they even used them though.

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There are showers around, but seem to be missing us. We could use a little gentle rain. The grass really came out with a thunderstorm last week. We only got .27 inches of rain, though. Sounded like much more. It was enough to make my house settle more and we couldn't open the front door. Had to get someone to come fix the door, and will have to have them come back to level the house again. They couldn't do it until after the holiday, though. We practically need to start over with this house, or, at least, that's what I think, sometimes. So many things need to be fixed and none of us are very handy that way. It would be nice if things would just need a little paint, as high up as I can reach. I could do that.

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Good luck and a speedy recovery to those of you who are facing or recovering from surgery! It's still amazing that they can replace parts like knees and even ankles, and that they can fix so many things like hearts and arteries, and even give shots in eyes.

Now if they could just fix the health care system so that people who need those things could have them done.

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Thanks for reading and sharing. Please let me know if you see something that is of interest to you. Sign my guestbook at the bottom of my page. And, you can sign up to receive my blog when I update it by joining my group, or typing in your e-mail in the subscription box.

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HAPPY BIRTHDAY, AMERICA !

Happy Birthday America !!!

These are family photos. I thought they would be appropriate for today.

While there are wonderful events going on, we ended up just staying at home, sad to say. The fighter jets that flew over the George Bush Libray, usually pass over our house, but I guess they went another direction this year.

My daughter "charcoaled" some meat, and I do mean "charcoaled" instead of barbequed. I had to pull the burned outside off of all of the chicken, which she cooked first. Her steak that she cooked later was okay but my grandson said it was too spicey. (Whatever happened to a little salt, pepper, maybe a little lemon juice, rubbed with garlic, or barbeque sauce! ) Tasted like charcoal, too. She said she used a mesquite mariande on it and that burned. I thought that she was taking after Daddy. In his later years, he loved to barbeque on holidays. He wouldn't wait on the fire to burn down , but poured on the lighter fluid to make the fire bigger. So, the barbeque always tasted like charcoal and lighter fluid.

My daughter got up this morning and made barbeque, mashed potatoes, barbeque sauce, and rolls. And a frozen apple pie with Cool Whip for dessert. She also got a small watermelon that they are eating now while watching fireworks on tv.

Normally we don't eat in the middle of the day, unless it is a quick sandwich or bowl of cereal.

But, she wanted all of us to eat before the oldest had to go to work this afternoon. So, I spent the afternoon eating and watching a program about the American Revolution on the History Channel.

That was about all there was on tv. I'm amazed at how inappropriate the programming on tv has become. On D-Day, there was absolutely not one movie about it, and, today, there was not one appropriate movie or program on, other than on the History Channel. Alfred Hitchcock movies just don't work when you are looking for something on the order of "Yankee Doodle Dandy" . The news programs seemed to do better with a bit of information as to what is going on in the country, and only CNN had very much coverage of the hostage release. Even the Western channels were a bust.

I wonder why stations that are supposed to have old western movies, are having so many old tv westerns instead. I didn't like any of those. I can tolerate Gene Autrey, but that's the only one. I got so sick of "Gun Smoke" when it was on, that I still don't want to spend a minute watching it now. Those stations don't make it easy to contact them, either. Surely, they can find some good old Tim Holt movies to show. They show them so seldom, but the really bad ones, like those awful "spaghetti westerns", they show over and over, and sometimes even on both channels.

I can't help but wonder if the people who are selecting tv programs are a product of the same education system that is producing the current crop of architects who have absolutely no sense of creativity or design. I think the tv program selectors must be some of those kids who play computer games or play with their cell phones during class. They don't have a clue about history, or even quality.

My daughter had suggested that, instead of going to the George Bush Library to watch fireworks, we might join some of her friends, who also don't like to participate in things, in a parking lot to watch from a distance. According to them, people even take their barbeque grills to that parking lot. Doesn't sound like any fun at all. You can't hear the orchestra, or the program that goes with the fireworks, that way, or tour the museum, taste the watermelon, hear the entertainment, or even take pictures with the historical characters. You just need to be there, I think.

One thing that I did do today is to start another drawing of a memory of when we were in elementary school, during WWII. Every morning, we marched around a large room, led by someone who carried our flag, and we all sang patriotic songs, after the whole school had participated in a flag ceremony at the flag pole. I'll post that one when I get further along with it.

I hope that you did / are doing something memorable today to observe the history of our great country. Be safe!

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Protect and Celebrate

Protect and Celebrate
8.5" x 11"
ink and watercolor

It was about this time of day. 2001. I had a sore throat so I called in, early, for a substitute teacher to take my classes at school, and went back to bed. My tv was going, as usual, and I slept.
"Wake up and look at the tv!" my daughter turned on the light in the room. I tried to open my eyes, and look at the small screen. The morning news was on. I'm not an easy person to wake up.
"Look! They said that a small plane has crashed into one of those skyscrapers in New York," she told me. "It may have been lost, or gone off course, but it hit way up there."
I sat up in bed, watching a stream of smoke coming from the distant building.
"Now, they are saying that they think it might be a bigger plane," she came back in the room with updates, although I was watching.
She went back into her room, with plans to go back to sleep, now that her sons were off to school.
I got up and stood in front of the tv set, in order to see better, as a speck in the sky appeared and headed for the second of the twin towers.
"Are you watching!" I shouted into my daughter's bedroom. "There's another plane."
The rest of the day was spent, watching the events of that September day unfold on television.
In the days that followed, television sets were on, even at school, all tuned to the news. As a journalism and art teacher, I thought that this was important to watch. We wrote about it, we made cards to send, and we did art work as we watched. I felt bad that some people seemed to be apathetic and cold, lacked feelings of patriotism, or even concern for, not only other human beings, but also for our country. I hoped that maybe, inside, they were feeling something, and just thought it best to be unresponsive and go about their business as usual. Most people seemed to be in shock and expressed disbelief at what was happening.
I was involved with watching, as one after another events occured. I didn't think of doing art work or writing myself. I watched and directed others, encouraged them to express themselves and do what little we could at a distance. It was hard to write or draw about that time, as it was happening. Events kept happening and it was hard to make sense of or understand what was happening.
I thought that, if I had the money, and the freedom to do so, I should go to New York and help in some way. But, I had a job, and not enough money, and, of course, I didn't think of my age and the difficulties I was having with my knees as being more of a hinderance than help in most situations. So, we made cards, we watched, and we learned.
In our small town life, we didn't know much about cities, skyscrapers, or what was inside them. We thought it was quite an adventure to go on a field trip and ride an elevator to the second or third floor of a building. Our legs ached and we huffed and puffed, if we went somewhere and had to walk up several flights of stairs. Nothing in our home area was over 2 or 3 stories tall. But, we learned quite a bit about those amazing places in New York, and are still learning. We didn't know much about flying in an airplane, either. We saw them fly over, sometimes. And, occasionally, we could go to a small airport and watch small, but large, to us, planes land or take off. We all ran to the windows to watch when a Life Flight helicopter landed in the field near the school to transport patients to a larger hospital.
We had not thought of what went on inside buildings. We had just seen pictures of the exteriors. We had no idea that there were lower levels and even trains running underneath.
Such terrible things to see, though, as we watched from afar. I still wonder about the people and their stories. I don't think it is possible to know exactly how many people were involved and lost on that day.
We continued keeping the news channel on at school, in all rooms for a while. And, in my art/journalism room, for the rest of the year. More things kept occuring and we needed to know about them.
When the "Shock and Awe" operation occured, the principal spoke over the intercom and announced that this is something historic. Something we have never seen before, and, hopefully, will never see again in our lifetimes. And, we watched in silence as bombs fell and sirens screamed.
What would happen now that we were in another war? I remembered back to World War II. And I thought that we needed to prepare, and think of how life was then. Almost everyone was involved, and there was always the fear that we would be attacked. We sacrificed, we supported, and there was an all out effort to win.
I thought of the cold fear that hit me as I drove home from school late one afternoon. The announcement came over the radio that we were at war in Iraq. The first Iraq War with the first president Bush. What was going to happen next? What could I do to ensure the safety of my family and my students, and to help my country? My car was the only one on the highway at that time. I wondered if I was supposed to pull over to the side of the road and stop, or should I just keep driving. I chose to drive home and hug my grandchildren.
I had my students make cards to send to the people in service, especially those who were from our town, or those we knew. Some students didn't want to do any work at all, and made silly, rude cards. (Those were not sent.) I told them that, someday, they may be in service, away from home, and would be happy to get anything from home-even a little handmade card from a student in our little school. They didn't believe me. But, sure enough, eventually, many of those same kids came by, on leave, in their uniforms, and thanked us for the cards, and gave me a big hug. I was so glad for those hugs because it meant that they were home, safe. I covered my bulletin boards in the front of the room, with newspaper clippings and pictures from the local newspaper about our former students who were in service, and added notes that we received back, thanking us for the cards. That was a thrill, to know that someone was happy to communicate with us. We couldn't say a prayer at school, but we could do so in our hearts.
An American flag that had been carried in Iraq was given to our school and placed on the bulletin board across from the office. People gathered to look at that flag, in awe, and to look at the pictures of the medical group that had given us the flag.
And, then there was Korea, and, later, Viet Nam. The country seemed to become less involved with each war. I knew a few people of my age group, who went to Korea. But, I didn't really see them aftr they left. I worried that we were too complacent in this country. We were not prepared or aware. Some of the WWII vets that I knew, felt that the great war was behind us, they had done their part, and they were wanting to live the rest of their lives at home, in peace. That concerned me. Who would fight for us? And who was better prepared for that than the experienced veterans?
And, so, in something that was a bit like a "Little Rascals" or "Our Gang" movie, I started a children's army. If the adults weren't ready, we would be. But, that's another story.
During Viet Nam, I didn't know anyone who was in service. The only way we knew there was a war was in seeing the occasional train with Army tanks, trucks, and Jeeps, heading for Houston, and through the reporting on the evening news of people like Dan Rather. Pictures came into our living rooms as we were having supper. We heard stories of protestors, who burned their bras and draft cards, and that they were disrespectful to returning veterans. I didn't see any of that, except on television. Like others, I was busy with my children and work. Still, in the background, there was the concern that we wouldn't win, that Communists would take over the world, or would invade our country. As we worried about Russia and Communism, some people started soothing everyone by saying that it wasn't the Russians who would take over the world, but the real danger was from the "Yellow Race". They emphasized this by saying that it is in the Bible. I never saw it, but people who belonged to another church were insisting that it was true.
We still, today, have great concerns that our way of life and our freedoms are threatened. Some people seem to think that we don't have to be strong and fight for what we have. They appear to be saying that, if we just tend to our own business, and keep to ourselves, go about our little daily routines, the rest of the world will "play nice" and not bother us. It doesn't, unfortunately, work that way.
I don't intend to get political or preachy in my blog. But, this is a time to reflect, and each day, we can't help but think about our history and our future.
My picture today is a sketch that I started for July 4th. I had several things that I worked on with a patriotic theme that day. I had not finished this one, and decided to use another one, that day, showing the days when we had our morning opening ceremony at the flag pole at school. You can see that one in my Archives for July.
I thought that I should put something on my blog today, with thoughts of 9-11 and this country. I added some color (watercolors) to this drawing and decided to use it, instead of the one I had planned to use on my Macular Degeneration experience. I hope it shows a bit of patriotism, joy, strength, celebration, continuity, tradition, and rememberance.
This is another of my works that is in my cartoon style, a technique that I easily revert to when I just want to draw something .
Tomorrow, look for more art work on my experiences with Macular Degeneration. Thanks for looking at my work. I couldn't get online yesterday or last night to post anything, in case you missed a post from me yesterday. It seems to be working again today.
Today, I will listen to the news, paint, and remember.

Patriotism

Morning
8.5" x 11"
pencil


Raise the flag,
sound the trumpets,
pledge our allegiance
to God and country.







Each morning, Calvert High School faculty and students, proudly gathered around the flag pole in front of the three story brick building, to stand at attention, watching the flag being carefully raised. The Pledge of Allegiance was said, the National Anthem was sung, sometimes a prayer was given, or special words from the superintendent or principal. Freddie Bob and Judy brought their trumpets in times when music was called for. Lessons were given on respect for the flag and flag ettiquette.
The morning sun behind the school, left long shadows across the little hill where the school is located. Morning dew still glistened and mourning doves in the nearby park could be heard cooing during moments of silence. A farmer's cornfield and tank formed a background to the north. His cozy little home was just on the other side of the road from the new gym.
There were more students and teachers than I have shown in my drawing, although we did have a fairly small school. Still, we had a quality education, that included the teaching of values, social skills, faith, and patriotism. We usually stood in a circle around the flagpole, but I thought that would make the picture too crowded. I indicated the older student body with shadows, younger ones with a pair of female teachers.
So many lady teachers then seemed to be older, had gray or white hair, dressed in "old lady clothes", dark with lace or a sweetheart neckline. There were strict rules for dress and conduct, especially for women teachers. A group of athletes, ag students are on the opposite side of the flagpole since the gym, ag building, and sports facilities were outside the main building. Male teachers and administrators are represented by the two men on the left. The younger students beside the women teachers represent elementary students (from the basement or first floor), middle school students (from the second floor). High school students were from the third floor.
I used a combination of hair and clothing styles from the times, with puffed sleeves, pleated plaid skirts, rolled over socks, penny loafers, curls, shirts and slacks, or overalls, for the boys.
Freddie Bob and Judy are in their trumpet playing poses.
During our time as students there, we were present as the community planted trees and placed marble markers in rememberance of former students who died in the war. A large marble drinking fountain was installed in front of the school and dedicated to veterans. A plaque inside the school was dedicated to those who served. Flags were prominent at every program and in every part of the school. We gathered in study halls to listen to historic speeches on the radio. And, there was the occasional movie shown in the auditorium-not for entertainment, but for stories about the war, or literature.
We should have kept all the patriotic things we did in school. Our pride in our country, and our God, is part of our strength. Gathering around the flag pole , declaring our allegiance to our country, every day seems like a good thing.