“Wait! Stop! What’s that?” Comedian Bert Kreischer was riding shotgun in my vehicle. He was shouting with excitement. We’d finished up another day of shooting with the reality-show host and it was time to cool off and go home. But Bert was still revved up. Most of the television personalities I’d dealt with over the years as a publicity liaison turned to stone as soon as the cameras were off. Not Bert Kreischer. He kept chatting, chuckling, and hooting with…
This is the story of Thomas Edward Regan. Sadly, I don’t know much about him, but I’ll share everything I’ve been able to piece together. We’ll start at the beginning: Thomas Edward Regan was born in New Haven, Connecticut, on June 27, 1946. He was his parents’ only child. He was born two months and a day after his namesake and grandfather died. Thomas Edward Regan was only 44 and had suffered from tuberculosis for years. Sadly, the grandson wasn’t…
Farmer Gary‘s great-grandmothers just can’t catch a break when it comes to obituaries. First it was Mary Wigger (she of the snuffly expiration) and now it’s Mary Werne’s turn. Excuse me, but did the local paper hire Dr. Seuss to write this headline? Mary Elisabeth Hedinger Werne passed away in her sleep on July 10, 1938. And according to the newspaper, it was a “gruesome sight” to confront. According to hand-typed notes Gary’s uncle Arch left us, although Mary was…
My brothers and I grew up watching Captain Kangaroo. Good morning, Captain! The Captain was a smiling fellow, with big pouchy pockets in his coat (hence the moniker). Every once in a while, he still shows up in social media: When I saw the “Who Wore It Better?” meme a year or so ago, I emailed my brothers to see what they recalled about The Captain. Something we all remembered was that Mom once met him. But not one of…
Farmer Gary and I have a twice-daily tête-à-tête in the sunroom during which time we read obituaries. It’s not my thing, but Gary is a dedicated condolences-giver. Even when it’s been a generation since the last communication, his ears will perk when I start reading the online obit: “Dad bought a calf from his grandfather once. When’s visitation?“ Recently, we added information from the Ancestry app to our routine. It provides that week’s birthdays, wedding anniversaries, and death-date memorials from…
Oh, nature. You are testing me. That fox last month was one thing. But did he have to move his whole family here? Under the front porch? And, apparently, under the back deck as a playroom for the four – count ’em four – kits? The worst part is poor Yow-Yow Kitty has taken to patrolling from up on the rooftop of our house. A close second in the worst-part category is that the cute little kits like to roll…
With Mom’s love of nature expressed in her poetry, I have to wonder … Who is this woman in red? A cardinal? Red squirrel? Red-winged blackbird? Or maybe, just maybe, a red fox. Here’s Mom‘s poem: The Curve / The Cave I will always wonderwhere the woman in red wentshe was my musicI knew her loved herwrote her on the pageand in my hearta lover came out of the Eastwith voice and eyes and hands so tendershe became his flowerdon’t…
Interesting comparisons in this month’s reading. Admittedly this was not a planned exercise, though. From David Copperfield to Demon Copperhead, the latter is a fascinating update to the heartbreaking story of a poor little orphan boy’s life. After re-watching the movie Julie & Julia recently (son James and I had been discussing chopping onions and I recalled that great scene), I remembered Gary gave me the book years ago. However: we’ll start off the month with a book I wish…
“The Hundred Acre Wood got floodier and floodier.” How lucky am I to have married a man who can quote Winnie the Pooh?! Farmer Gary and I were driving home after a wonderful weekend with James. Our youngest son lives exactly 250 miles from us, so it’s a bit of a haul, but always worthwhile. James cooked for us several times and took us to our first cat cafe. My favorite moment was just as we walked into the special…
Here we are at the end of another March, with most of the month’s books provided by Irish scribes. Out like a lamb? It’s definitely calmer today than last night’s tornado-watch storms. Made for a noisy evening, but one custom-made for reading. Here are the books I read in March: Book 1: Singing My Him Song by Malachy McCourt Even though he was born in New York, Malachy McCourt grew up in Limerick, Ireland so we’ll count him as one…