Dad's Day

Hqppy Dad's Day, Pop! I miss you so much...

Dad, back in '44, and his dad, Romolo, my Pop Pop.

Fathers Day was quiet here. DH was recouping from a nasty fall the night before; a plastic lawn chair that was pushing 15 years old literally exploded out from under him, almost mangling his left hand, and sending large shards of sharp plastic flying in all directions. He fell on his bad hip, and later sustained some minor bruises, but the hip was the worst part.  The sounds that periodically came from the bedroom during the day, were pitiful. 
We hung out together all day and I got a lot done on the Doves in Flight wedding doily.
It's 8 rows from completion; Can you see the doves? :)



I took a break and went outside to see what was popping up in my gardens. I had noticed some bright orange from Tje upstairs guest bedroom window and had to investigate.




I love my petunias, my gift to DH for spotting these cool planters one day






The Prickly Pears will be blooming soon!


Old Man Thyme

Teh Babeh's Birthday Bash, Part II

Looky what I got today!! My Amarylis in bloom, 10th year running.

My older daughter, her husband, Mother-in-Law and their 2-year old daughter came up this weekend, and we celebrated Baby Rhonda's second birthday! She takes center stage in the middle of the dining room table as she opens one of her presents:

 I received sad news yesterday, from a dear knitting buddy; her father has been diagnosed with lung cancer.

I had to go through the pain and suffering with my own dad, back in 2000. While I go about my day-to-day activities and try live a normal, productive life, I thought I had put it all away, all the pain, anguish, feeling of helplessness to do anything, yet this brought it all back out in plain view again. I feel helpless to do anything but be a good listener, and hope I can help her through this; she will be going through some very stressful days ahead. When I got up and began my morning ritual, I could think of nothing else. There is so much that goes through a person's mind, when they have to come to terms with the reality of our mortality. Time stands still for just a moment, long enough for us to believe in wishing on a star, just this once, to ask for a miracle that will give us a little more time together, with those we love.

I've learned through the loss of a loved-one, that the time we do have here on Mother Earth is a gift and we are obligated to share it with everyone around us, because one day, we'll be just a memory to someone else, and what we leave behind will be our legacy for shaping their futures. You choose your own path in life, and every step you take creates a ripple that flows out from your center, to everyone around you. How firmly you walk determines how far that ripple will reach others.

Sam and Laurena Ranelli

My Dad, in Garage World, listening to the S.F. Giants on his transistor radio

Me and Mom, two giddy girls, peas in a pod

I am determined that what I leave behind will not be measured by tangible things, because I am not a piece of furniture. I am soul and spirit, and I will continue to be, even after my body dies, when I will become like a ripple on the surface of still waters for someone else.


Book Reviews and other up-coming reading
I can't wait to read Troy Taylor's next book coming out soon: Suicide and Spirits, the first book ever written with cooperation from Lemp family descendants and features previously untold stories about the family, as well as rare photographs, detailing life among the tragic, St. Louis elite! Learn of the myths and misconceptions that have plagued the Lemp story as the real story as revealed in a way that only Troy Taylor can tell it!

Available to Order Starting February 25!

I once spoke with a relative who was living in Hannah House Indianapolis during a visit, back in the 90's. The part of the whole Haunted House tour that really wigged me out was the basement, where the fire took the lives of several refugee slaves. I still get a chill when I recall that. Someone may have written a book about that; note to Self: Look up Indianapolis legends and tales of spirits.

I'm reading Death in a Prairie House, by William R. Drennan, the story of Frank Lloyd Wright and the Taliesin murders, right now; it's pretty good, so far. I'm getting into the historical stuff that precedes the murders-I hear the second half is morbidly grotesque, when they get into the details of the murders. But I can sorta see how the Locals would have contempt for a person like that, back then....bringing his paramour to live in such a fine house as he had built for her, Taliesin, with a family back home and all...

Time to rejoin the living-DH is hollering for me to bring up a Coke when I get done blogging my life's story~ :P