Middle brother Dave recently came upon a poem our Grandma Cassidy mailed to him in 1975. Since this is World Poetry Day and Grandma’s birthday, we must share: Not that I would ever critique someone’s handwriting, but in case you need help with the above … “To Joan” Our Poet Your words of JoyThat your message bringsGives my heart a lift as it softly sings. Sadness and Strife can bring much blissIf we hold God’s hand, we cannot missThe Wonders…
I thought of Matt the other day. We were great friends in college – both performers in the Singing Hoosiers (think Glee, but in college). I can hear his booming bass voice to this day. Just this past Saturday, there was a note online that it was actor Michael Caine’s 93rd birthday. There was a story about how he and Quincy Jones, working together on The Italian Job movie, suddenly realized they were born on the same day – making…
The news in the registered letter Dad opened on February 7, 1951, was something no college senior should have to receive. That same day, Dad wrote to his future wife: My Darling, I got an awful shock this morning. I got a registered mail letter from dad. He’s lost his job. I couldn’t believe my eyes when I read it the first time. For a while I couldn’t move or think. Golly, you never realize the blessing of security until…
While digging around recently in our greeting-card drawer, I came across several colorful choices. I flipped them over to check the artist’s name and realized the cards must have been a long-ago gift from Mom and Dad, as the illustrator was their “neighbor” Jacques Pépin. They weren’t borrow-a-cup-of-sugar neighbors (although both parties would surely have been generous with their sucre); they lived about a mile apart. My parents were delighted to stop for a casual chat with Chef when they…
Our siblings and cousins are checking in this afternoon, asking each other how the blizzard is treating them. Here in southern Indiana, we did not have snow in the forecast. Yet, yesterday and today, a few flakes managed to blow around. Very few. Connecticut and New York are getting hit hard, with heavy snow and high winds. True to form, Harry’s wife, Linda, good-naturedly grumbled about only getting a few inches in Maine. This doesn’t exactly meet the “historic proportions”…
Growing up, storytime with Mom wasn’t so much about princes and princesses. The theme was more witches, black cats, and cauldrons. Yet in 2005, as a grandmother of seven, she wrote about the princes who came to visit one day. The Suitors The princes came Somehow she stayed awakeenduring flattery and flufftheir mouths were coffersfull of father lips were tired of smilingof eyes of searchingnot one would she wishto rule beside her They left at lastshe walked into her garden…
Had I studied four of the dozen books of the Aeneid – in Latin, no less! – I do believe I’d have spent the rest of my life complaining about it. Not Mom, though … a high-school senior, she wrote Virgil a fan letter. It was in the style of his epic poem, of course: On Completing Book Four of the Aeneid Farewell, proud poet of a thousand years,Thou instigator of our common tears –Thou prompter of the midnight oils…
I was really hoping to find out “turnabout is fair play” was coined by William Shakespeare. Alas, its earliest application may be lost to history, but Abraham Lincoln was an early user of the phrase, so we’ll keep it in play with today’s story. As you may recall, my father‘s entire life of home ownership was tortured by squirrels (see Nuts to you! from 2019). He and Mom loved to feed the birds in their many backyards, from Massachusetts to…
The new year started out with a light-hearted book, but quickly turned to darker tales. Book 1: Pippi Longstocking by Astrid Lindgren I have such a clear recollection of Mom bringing Pippi Longstocking home to me from the library back in the mid-1960s. I’m pretty sure I read it in a day. When the Folio Society offered this volume with such delightful illustrations, it was time for a re-read. Pippi’s energy and strength are unmatched. And that hair! The re-read?…
Mom would call this Meatloaf Weather. Frigidly cold, snowy, with no end in sight. Here’s her recipe, which she sent to me shortly after Gary and I married. I don’t know the story behind the name – could it be her mother’s recipe? Or, more probably, it’s a combination of recipes from friends, relatives, Dad’s feedback, and the back of the oatmeal container. Momma’s Meatloaf 1 lb. (or more) ground beef3/4 to 1 cup quick oatsonion (optional)2 eggs, beaten2 Tablespoons…