September 9, 2009 - Posted by - 1 Comment

My Grandpa Deane and Mom outside of Grauman's Chinese Theater - 1960
I was making the bed in the guest room yesterday in anticipation of my upcoming weekend house guests when my thoughts turned to the task at hand — yes, bed making and “hospital corners.” I was remembering when I was a little girl and my Mother teaching me how to tuck in the bottom first, then lift up the side corner to make an angle, tuck in what was hanging down, then bring down the angled section and tuck that in to make a neat, square corner.
She told me about how her father had taught her how to make the bed using hospital corners. It was nice to remember that time that she and I spent together and her telling me stories of the times she and my grandfather spent together, teaching and learning.
I know that I taught my children how to make a bed with hospital corners, but did I tell them that their great-grandfather taught the skill to their grandmother when she was a little girl, and then she taught me when I was a little girl? I honestly don’t remember. If I didn’t, I am sorry about that.
I was wondering if my daughter has taught my grandchildren, who live 1000 miles away from me, how to make the bed using hospital corners. And if in doing so she told them that their great-great grandfather taught their great-grandmother, who taught their grandmother, who taught their mother, who is now teaching them…
I never thought much about how such small things can be family traditions and we don’t even realize that they are! The next time my grandchildren come to visit I will be sure to make the beds with them, and tell them about hospital corners and other stories about their great-great grandfather Deane, their great-grandmother Hanych, their grandmother Freeman (me!), and of course their own mother when she was a girl.
August 9, 2009 - Posted by admin - 1 Comment

- View from my kitchen window
I am a new gardener. We bought this house on 1.25 acres two years ago. We’ve put two flower beds in the front yard so far and adopted a bear we call “Sam.” This is the view from my kitchen window. You can see the raised bed we built for Sam, and just to the left our pond. The other flowerbed is further left; we built a small retaining wall for that one as it is on a slight incline. The flowering shrubs in front of the porch were already there. We’ve been working on that area as well but the yard is so big we can only tackle a few projects at a time.
This year we decided to work on the back yard. I started with a small garden next to the patio. This is my favorite place to sit. I can look out on the rest of the yard, and the deck above me allows me to enjoy my swing in the shade. We live next to the Potomac River and there is always a breeze. We have a fountain there, too, so I can hear the sound of running water along with the birdsong. We have our share of wildlife – groundhogs have taken residence under the shed. We have deer, opossum, foxes, rabbits, and skunks. An owl hoots that I have not been able to locate yet. I would love to be able to photograph him!
Last fall I decided I wanted to plant a butterfly garden. I spent the winter reading about the flowers and bushes that attract butterflies and that would be deer resistant. My first choice was, of course butterfly bush! I’ve planted marigolds, purple coneflower, verbena, lantana, phlox (which turned out NOT to be deer resistant – every time it blooms the deer come and eat the blossoms! Which is such a shame, they are very fragrant, too), zinnia, salvia, sedum, black-eyed Susan, verbascum nettle-leaved mullein, foxgloves, yarrow… just to name a few.
We started by marking out a 40-foot circle, and digging out the lawn. It didn’t take too long to realize that was going to be waaaaaaay too big! We cut an arc out of the circle, to create a crescent 40 feet long and 20 feet wide at the center. We decided we would use the rest of the “circle” to create a seating area. We haven’t planned all of that part out yet so it is still grass. We’ll probably use gravel and pavers, or maybe just pavers, and put a nice garden bench there. Meanwhile, we started tilling our rocky, clay soil and adding literally a ton of organic material. We worked so hard, but it has been worth it. I added the plants a little at a time over the past two months. What I didn’t do was add any type of weed barrier or mulch because I knew I would still be adding more plants. It is a very large area to fill! Buying and planting 10 or 15 plants at a time makes for lots of work. We have had so much rain lately and I’ve been on travel so the weeds got away from me. The grass grew back, and got TALL – it was as tall as the zinnias! Three weeks ago, we got out there with the rotor tiller and dug up the open areas, and I that was when I planted the phlox, two of the foxgloves, the nettle-leaved mullein, and the coneflowers.
We spent today back in the garden with the rotor tiller. We use a hoe and claw rake to get the weeds that were growing in the areas were the rotor tiller was too wide to cultivate. We worked until it got too hot to continue. We’ll get up early in the morning, lay the weed barrier, and cover it with the two yards of mulch we bought earlier this morning. I hope that we’ll get it done early since tomorrow is supposed to be the hottest day of the year!
I read somewhere it takes three years for a garden to really “fill in” and look good. This garden does still have a ways to go but it is serving its purpose. It is filled with butterflies galore! Big ones, little ones, light ones, dark ones… so many varieties and some I’ve never seen before in my life. Here are some photos that I took this afternoon of an Eastern Black Swallowtail and a Hummingbird Moth. I hope you like them.

Eastern Black Swallowtail
Hummingbird Moth

July 26, 2009 - Posted by admin - 0 Comments

Eagle Rocks, Smoke Hole Canyon, Monongahela National Forest
We decided to take our tubes to Big Bend, which is in Smoke Hole Canyon on the South Branch of the Potomac River. Smoke Hole Canyon is part of the Monongahela National Forest. The “main road” in is about 9 miles long, at least half of which is not paved. The entire road is narrow and winding. The canyon itself has deep, steep walls and is home to both golden and bald eagles. This stone outcrop is called Eagle Rocks and was named for a Revolutionary War soldier, William Eagle, who lived nearby and is buried by the side of the road.

Big Bend Campground
The road dead-ends at Big Bend Campground. The reason for the dead end is the river forms a big loop — or bend — around the peninsula of land that contains the campground. You park your vehicle right at the edge of the river. It was a very nice for a day of swimming and playing. What is even better is, you can grab your tube and walk back down the road until you come to the river on the OPPOSITE SIDE of the road. Put in at that point and about 45 minutes to an hour later you will find yourself right back at the place you parked your vehicle! Float a bit farther and you’ll see a trail on your left. Get out, take the trail back up to the road, cross the road and go around again! You don’t need a shuttle for this ride!
We have a pump for blowing up the river tubes but of course it didn’t work. Bill had to blow up the tubes himself. I don’t know WHERE he gets all that hot air! <grin>

The water was pretty shallow in some places, as we knew it would be, so there were a couple of places where we had to walk our tubes but the loop is about a mile long so that wasn’t a problem. There were still plenty of places to play and even a few rapids, even if they were low! Luckily I am light enough that if I did get stuck on a rock I only had to lift my @&& out of the middle of the tube and the current would do the rest! <grin>

It was a beautiful relaxing afternoon. The canyon is remote and wild and its beauty is unsurpassed. It felt so good to be floating along with the current, not a care in the world.

The afternoon was getting later and the weather report was proving to be a lie… the sky started getting dark, the wind came up, and we could hear thunder in the distance. We were a little more than halfway around the bend and had reached a spot where the water was deep and there was very little current. We started paddling with our hands to make it through the slack water, and came out in an area of rocks and rapids. Now that was fun!!! If the water would have been just a few inches higher it would have been even better but I enjoyed the ride through the series of small rapids.

As I was coming to the end of the rock garden/rapids area, the thunder was closer and more insistent. The raindrops were starting and Bill recommended we get out of the water and go the rest of the way back to the car. Just as we got the tubes in the back of the car and us on the inside, the heavens opened up and delivered a deluge. We had made it back to the car just in time. We headed back up the canyon and once out, towards Petersburg, WV. There we stopped for dinner at a “mom and pop” diner. The food was all homemade and very delicious! I ate WAAAAAY too much but believe me I’ll find my way back to that place again. All in all it was a fun, relaxing, and memorable day.
June 18, 2009 - Posted by - 0 Comments
This was written by Bill in 2006. It is just too good not to share!
We did Goose Creek Saturday morning on a kayak. They call it a Creek but it’s a pretty substantial 30-40 mile long river with a mixture of flat water and fun rapids.
I had bought a new kayak for Roseann the day before so we had to go try out her new toy even though the weather report suggested afternoon thunder boomers. We’d be off the water by then, right? We had to be off early because I had to meet friends later that day who were coming up from Charlotte on motorcycles. Our schedule was to start by 7 and get off the river early. So what if different things happened so that we got off to a late start and it was 10 by the time that we finally put the two kayaks on the water?
Previous research had indicated that there were three Public Access put-in points in our general area with points a to b to c being 28 miles and points b to c being only 8 miles. First trip of the season, we selected to do only the 8 mile b to c trip because we didn’t have the time to do more.
Didn’t know anything about the river or what to expect. But what the hell. Worse case might be some Class II rapids but most of them should be only an easy class I.
Had to take two cars. One to carry the kayaks to the put-in place and one to be at the take-out place to take them home. Thankfully, I had the Honda Van and Hyundai SUV. Put Kayaks on top of Van first. No crossbars. Rack but no crossbars. Made some temporary crossbars out of rolled-up bubble wrap. Worked great. Both of them fit up there ok and potential damage to paint job minimal.
Couldn’t find the life vests when getting ready to leave house. Weren’t in box packed with other stuff. Rats. Can’t go on water without life vests. Ran to Wal-Mart. $$ but we could save tags and take back when we found our old life vests. Part of reason that we were late putting in the water
Dropped of SUV at point C. Drove Honda to point B. Steep muddy bank to go down to get to the river. Remembered at last moment that I didn’t have any tie-down ropes in SUV to tie kayaks on top to go home so put two ropes in my kayak where they would be safe and could be used at the takeout point.
Put-in point was in middle of Class 1 rapid. Because Roseann hadn’t had any practice with her new kayak yet, that wasn’t an optimal place. Because she wanted to run the rapids, I dragged/pulled/carried/threw the kayaks around until I got up to some flat water above rapids.
She sat down (it’s a sit-on-top kayak) and I gave her a gentle push to get her away from the current and into the flat water. My kayak was a crawl-inside. It had either shrunk or I had got bigger since last use. Struggled to get in but lost my paddle and it was going downstream. Jumped out of Kayak (ouch, knee), tripped and got to feel waist deep water. Cold waist deep water.
Ran in waist deep water to grab paddle (ouch, damn rocks under water, ouch, ouch). Got paddle and new bruises on lower legs.
Got in kayak and pushed upstream to where Roseann was playing. Made sure that we were both comfortable with our respective kayaks.
Let her go first through the rapids in case I had to do a rescue.
Remembered as went through the rapids that I had left my kayak skirt on box in garage as gallons of water thudded in my kayak and didn’t drain out as it was doing with her sit-on-top kayak.
Made it through rapids. Yea. My kayak had quarter inch water in bottom from waves crashing over me. Decided to watch water level and dump out every so often
More rapids. More water in my kayak
But we were in long stretch of high banks where it would be difficult to get out and to dump water out of kayak. You know, tree lined high banks that looked snakey. Decided to push luck (dumb ass me) until better spot found.
Beautiful day. Sunshine. No on river except us. Tree lined banks. Good current, didn’t need to paddle too much. Great day. Having fun. Occasional Class I rapid
More rapids. More water. Three quarter of inch of water but front of kayak still high. More flat water ahead. Still looking for good take-out point to dump water
Kayak felt sluggish. Front end riding high. Looked at rear end. Under water. It shouldn’t have been. Only way that it should be that low was if…..Oh shit!!!!
Started paddling like mad man to get to nearest shore which was thirty feet away.
Made it about twenty-two feet.
Rear end made large gulping sounds and front end went higher in air. Now knew why front had been riding high.
Kayak did a Titanic like maneuver with front end straight up in air and rear end pointed toward bottom of river. No flotation built into kayak so knew that once full, it would float with only about quarter of an inch of the hull above water.
Kayak turned into Titanic. Gulp, Gulp, too late to get hell out. Did a roll-out and push-away as it shot toward the bottom.
Damn cold cold cold water.
Kayak floats to the top a few seconds later along with paddle.
Tug. Pull, glad that I had on new Wal-Mart life vest. It couldn’t go back now.
Steep muddy bank. Pulled waterlogged kayak over to steep muddy bank swimming until feet told me water was waist deep and I was only two feet from edge.
Stood up. Wrong. Bottom was only about three feet under water but was unpacked mud. Instantly sank in up to knees.
Was now about armpit deep in water with a full kayak and my feet stuck to the bottom.
Managed to push nose of kayak on shore. Started emptying out water. Do you know how heavy a kayak full of water is?
Very slow process. Kept sinking deeper in mud, which was trying to pull my river shoes off
Managed to finally get water out of kayak but had sunk deeper in mud.
Taking deep breath, went under water to dig mud away from legs and to try to pull foot out while leaving shoes on feet.
Had to go under several times and finally had feet out with shoes. Hooray.
Because bank was too steep, tried to get on kayak from rear using water approach method where you shove it between your legs like a log but got slightly off balance
Titanic number 2 as we went straight down again
Water still damn cold. Kayak still full of water. Had to go back to same damn muddy place. Only good thing about it was it gave me the opportunity to pee.
Pull kayak back to bank. Repeat process. Almost didn’t get one shoe out that time.
Tried water climb-on method again but more careful with balance.
Yes.
Goosebumps all over me. Thank goodness sunshine and no wind.
Looked at kayak. Had loaned it to friend last year. He had removed the drain plug to drain it when he put it on his car top but I discovered at that moment that he never put the plug back in. Consequently when water got in it from rapids and settled in back to weight it down, rear end dropped down below water level and unplugged hole was taking on water in addition to what was coming in when went through rapids. Several loudly spoken words that only a career Army/Navy guy would understand. Roseann’s ears were blushing.
Ok, knew what was wrong with kayak and that I had to QUICKLY find a place to dump water whenever it got to be more than a quarter inch inside.
Good plan. We could salvage the rest of the trip and have fun now.
Clouds came from nowhere. Strong wind blowing upstream so had to paddle into wind. Quickly looking like rain. Only six more miles to go.
More rapids. Survived them. Dumped water.
Rapids quit, river started getting wider and deeper.
When river was almost 600 feet wide, noticed that it seemed funny because couldn’t see any shoreline in front of us.
Paddled in front of Roseann and kept us over to side while I searched for where we wanted to go.
Saw something that I didn’t like. Paddled like hell to get to shore to keep strong current from taking me where it wanted to take me. Had Roseann who way was behind me to go immediately to shore.
Pulled both our kayaks out of water.
Walked about 150 feet.
Groaned when I saw 600 foot long 17 foot high spillway.
Groaned even worse when drops of rain started falling.
Groaned even worse when had to portage two kayaks over rock garden to get to put-in point below spillway.
Kayaks weren’t heavy but were bulky and was very glad that I had fought to keep my river shoes so that I wasn’t walking barefooted.
Put-in point started with rapids.
More rapids
More rapids
Went swimming from Titanic #3 but had got it over to a sandy ledge where I only went in belly deep and was able to quickly dump the water on somewhat stable shoreline.
Pouring down rain
No sunshine. Cold wind. Only way staying warm is hard paddling.
More rapids
Must be getting close to take-out point. Seems like we’ve paddled for a jillion miles.
Thankfully no water in kayak
More rapids approaching. Roseann in front again so that I can play protector and follow behind her
As we go into the new rapids, realize too late that these rapids are at least Class III
Big wave breaks over my kayak. When I come out, I see that I’ve got about two inches of water sloshing around my legs and there’s a big damn rock right in front of me.
Paddle like hell to go around it. Kayak is very sluggish and turns slowly as more waves break over kayak. Doesn’t turn until I’m almost at the rock so that I go into the rock sideways.
Thankfully, the ‘slight bump’ against the rock made it easier for me to get out of the kayak. Didn’t plan to get out but also didn’t have any choices. Felt like rock in slingshot as I came out, forcibly ejected by the water flinging my kayak over the rock.
Rolled over top of rock as I remembered that my kayak helmet was sitting on top of my skirt in the garage.
Discovered little hydraulic created hole in water on other side of rock that liked to pull everything under water and to keep it there.
Water-logged Kayak decided to come join me in hole and to try to push me out of my little hole where I was having so much fun playing underwater bumper pool with the rocks.
I was having too much fun but grabbed hold of kayak and let it drag me out.
Looked up to see if Roseann was sitting downstream laughing at me. Nope, she had also flipped over but had hung onto her boat. Her arms were wrapped around the back of her kayak and she was playing bumper pool with the rocks too however she was cheating. She was staying on top of the water and was missing out of the fun of looking at those rocks from a fish’s perspective.
Ouch. Big Ouch. More Ouches. As the Kayak drags me at a fast reckless speed where ever it wants to drag me.
Take time to spit out some of the water that I had picked up somewhere.
Out of rapids into fast current below rocks. Look back to see Roseann gliding into eddy on side opposite from where the current was taking me.
Grabbed my paddle as I ran over it but couldn’t get in kayak, which naturally was full of water.
Started struggling and pushing off underwater rocks to get over to same side where Roseann is.
Yell and ask if she is all right. Yes but she’s lost her paddle.
Struggle against current and get over to same side about two hundred feet below where Roseann is pulling her kayak out on shore.
As I get out of water, look at leg and have major bruised area above knee that was bigger than my hand. Bet that I damaged that underwater rock so that it remembers me. Otherwise, all right.
Pull my waterlogged kayak up on shore so that it’s not going anywhere and look back to make sure she is all right. She’s holding her side and looking like something is wrong. Ask again. Get same answer.
Had the current almost rip off one of my river shoes so it was flapping around the other strap around my ankle. Had to step on a couple of rocks barefooted that didn’t feel too good. Would discover a stone bruise on ball of foot much later. Put shoe back on.
Look downstream to see if I can see her paddle.
Nope but see rope floating down middle of river.
Kayak is currently useless with water and rope will soon be lost. Rope that is needed to take the kayaks home. She is all right for now.
Went swimming. Was already very wet and needed rope.
Rope was going downstream almost as fast as me but thankfully got it and back to side. But it was only the smaller piece of my two pieces of rope. Oh well, you work with what you have.
Went to Roseann. Her chest was hurting from where she had tumbled within the rapids but we both thought it was just bruised.
Roseann discovers that she can’t now take her life vest back to Wal-Mart because it’s definitely used.
Her paddle was lost. It was still raining. It was still cold. Looking around we saw that we were less than a half mile from SUV.
Dumped water out of my kayak.
Couldn’t use rope to tie her kayak to my kayak because the pull of her kayak would have easily pulled my rear end under water. So tied the front of my kayak to her kayak and swapped kayaks with her so that I could pull her riding in my kayak.
Paddled hard to try to get us off the river as quickly as possible. Paddling was keeping me warm but she was freezing from the swim, clouds, rain, and no activity.
Current had her kayak swinging wildly behind me.
Saw something floating. Other rope which had been in my kayak. Which would be needed to tie both kayaks on top.
Saw something floating. Her paddle.
Hooray. Untied rope.
Both of us paddled.
Saw takeout point.
Ever want to jump up and click your heels but can’t because you’re sitting on a kayak and feel like you’ve got gravel pounded up your ass?
Carry kayaks up to SUV.
Put one on top.
Lift other to put on top and discover that SUV is narrower than van. So much more narrow that both kayaks can’t sit on top at same time.
Said some of those colorful military phrases again.
Tried to balance them both on top while I tied them together. They would be too heavy to tie together then lift up there.
Oops, my kayak fell off and bounced.
Had Roseann hold her kayak on top while I put my kayak back up.
Didn’t know my strength and pushed her kayak off on top of her and it bounced onto the ground.
Try it again. Yeah. They’re barely up there.
Quickly tie them together so that they are holding each other on top.
Have Roseann get in car to get out of wet clothes into dry clothes so that she can try to get warm.
Finally get two kayaks tied on top so that they weren’t going anywhere.
Get in car. Gas gauge sitting on empty. Do we have enough gas to get to nearest gas station or to our home which is closer???
Home it is.
Got there. Untie kayaks and put in garage. Saw helmet and skirt exactly where I had left them in garage.
Go upstairs to take warm shower. Don’t even bother to undress. Just stand under hot shower with muddy dirty clothes on. Undress in shower and see small pebbles falling out of places that shouldn’t exist.
Have major bruise and scrape on leg. Have minor bruises and scrapes. Roseann’s chest is hurting.
Our van is still at put-in point.
We’re both starved. Exhausted. Ready to go to bed. It’s only 3 o’clock.
But I had a friend coming up from North Carolina for the weekend with three other people that I was supposed to meet in Garrisionville which is a good hour away. They had come up for Rolling Thunder and Roseann/I were supposed to stay down there for the night. We were supposed to be on our motorcycle and to meet them at three.
Put on dry clothes. Head to nearest fast food joint.
Shovel food into mouth while going to get van.
Discover that I have a deep round piece of skin missing on my thumb where it bends so every time that I use my thumb, I feel a burning.
Friend calls. Just got to Garrisonville after riding up from Charlotte. We are supposed to go eat with them. Put them off until 6.
Get van. Go back home.
Sun has come out.
Get out motorcycle and notice that it needs cleaning. Roseann packs our raingear while I quickly clean the cycle.
Ride to Garrisonville. Go out with friends to eat dinner. Leave friends at motel and rush to other friend’s nearby house where we would sleep that night.
Have major pain in neck. Was it from crashing over that rapid, exhaustion, muscle strain, or helmet?
Made sure in bed by 9:30. Woke up at 3 and couldn’t get back to sleep.
Get Roseann up at 5:30 so we can meet our motorcycle riding friends at 6:15 to ride to Pentagon for Rolling Thunder.
Hot sunny day after we get there. No suntan lotion. No shade. Long lines for porta-potties. The bottles of water were warmer than the hot dogs being sold at unbelievable prices. Wait in Pentagon parking lot for four and half hours until time for parade.
Ride through main streets of DC as part of parade. Hooray.
Take friends out to dinner and put them on road to their motel while we go back to our home.
In bed by 6:45.
Memorial Day was holiday but still felt tired. Roseann’s chest still hurting.
She goes to doctor on Monday to see if broken bone. X-rays reveal bruises front and back but nothing broken.
Looking at whitewater internet site, Roseann discovers that only one Class III named rapid exists on that whole river and not only did we now know where it was, but we also saw parts of the rapid underwater that most people don’t get to see.
So that was our Memorial Day weekend. She wants to go back and to do it again. She wants to successfully run the rapid this time.
So I’m wondering what the punishment for woman slaughter is in this state?
It’s also a good thing that I don’t have a plug in my kayak or I know where I would try to shove it.
Joking aside, it was fun. It was great seeing the friends. Maybe a little too much fun but that was our weekend.
March 26, 2009 - Posted by admin - 4 Comments

Kenneth Francis Lemmon
When I was in the fourth grade my brother Kenny was born. Our Mother had been ill during this pregnancy, it was a difficult one and both of them almost didn’t make it. We lived in a very small two-bedroom house — my older brother John and my younger brother Brent shared a bedroom, my Mother and step-father slept on a sofa bed in the living room, and I, as the only girl, had my very own bedroom. Once Kenny was born he and I shared the room, with my bed in one corner and his crib in the other.
He would wake in the night and I would get up and take care of him, changing his diaper or giving him a bottle. We bonded from the day my Mother brought him home from the hospital. He was like a real live doll and I loved playing with him.
When he started school I would help him with his homework. I remember I used to quiz him on the questions at the end of each chapter. I made a game of it and by the time we were done I would ask him the answer and he would give me the question.
We were always a pretty dramatic family. I was a drama major in high school, and my Mother had been a dancer when she was girl. Show business was just in our blood. Kenny was a wonderful actor. I used to dress him up and we would put on shows. On this day I dressed him up in one of my skirts — it was green and white checked gingham — and a bonnet from one of my dolls. You can see from the pose that he was a natural, and quite a ham!

Kenny was a natural actor
He was also a musician, he played the bass guitar in a band for a while. He had the ability to play any instrument he picked up. One time when he was elementary school age he and Mother were at the mall, and she lost track of him as sometimes happens with kids. There was an area in the store where they sold pianos, and someone was playing one of the pianos. There was a crowd of people around listening to the music and she figured that is where she would find him. He always loved music. She went over to find him, and lo and behold, it was Kenny who was playing the piano! He had never played one before, he couldn’t read music. He was playing by ear.
Speaking of Kenny’s ear, he only had one “good” one. When he was a toddler he was playing in our front yard and a neighborhood dog got loose from its owner, ran up to Kenny and bit his left ear off. Ken’s ear was hanging by a single piece of cartledge. He had several plastic surgeries and skin grafts. The doctor was able to save his ear but it was considerably smaller than the right one, and it was very scarred. He would never have a picture taken full-face, he would always turn slightly so his smaller ear would not show in the picture.
We had a collie at the time and when Kenny came home from the hospital Nancy (Lady Nancy Gail) would not leave his side. She slept on the floor next to his bed and followed him everywhere. He did not become afraid of dogs after that incident and I think it is because of our dog becomming Kenny’s constant companion.
I remember how much he loved music and theatre. He was a mimic and would keep us in stitches with his celebrity impersonations. One of his favorite childhood movies was “Babes in Toyland” — the one with Tommy Sands and Annette Funicello. His favorite comedian was Buddy Hackett.

Kenny - 6th Grade - 1967
Kenny had a dark side, too. He started smoking pot at a very young age and became involved with the “counter culture” of the late 1960’s and 1970’s. I have my suspicions about what may have contributed to his instability and I think the drug use was a symptom of those problems. The last time that I saw him was in 1980 or 1981. I was living in Colorado and he came out to visit. Our Mom and one brother were living in Colorado, too. Ken decided to go back to California. He and Mom corresponded for a while but one day Mom received her letter back with a “Moved No Forwarding Address” sticker attached. She tried to find him but was not successful.
As the Internet became more prevalent my brothers and I would do searches to try and find him. One brother hired a private detective but we still were never able to find him. My brother Brent recently decided to try to find Kenny once again. This time, he was successful.
There was a newspaper notice, dated a year ago, requesting public assistance in finding the family of Kenneth Lemmon. Brent called the number listed and found that Kenny passed away March 4, 2008. He had been staying with friends and said he wasn’t feeling well. He went outside to smoke a cigarette and never came back in. His friends became concerned and when they went out to find him he was unconscious. They called 911. Kenny died of heart problems. The coroner said there was no foul play, no sign of trauma. It was his heart. His father was about the same age when he died of the same cause.
My Mother never stopped looking for Kenny. She passed away two years ago, in February. I am sorry that there wasn’t a way to locate him before his death and before hers. If it weren’t for the death notice in the newspaper we may have ever found him. I have missed him these 25+ years and I guess I will never stop missing him. But I do know that Mother and Kenny had their reunion a year ago, and that Mom welcomed him with open arms. I will always remember him as I knew him best, looking as he did in the photo above.
March 22, 2009 - Posted by admin - 1 Comment

Glenna Mae Hite Bailey
How do these things begin? This time it was with an e-mail to my husband. We were sitting in our usual places — he on his big overstuffed leather recliner/rocker, in which he never reclines, with his laptop on his lap and I on my big overstuffed lazy-boy recliner sofa with MY laptop on my lap. Yes, I was reclining. I buy these things because I am short so my feet don’t touch the floor while I am seated. I either have to scooch forward so my back does not rest against the back of the couch/chair or else, if I do sit back, my legs “dangle” and the pressure of the edge of the furniture against the backs of my legs cuts off the circulation. Why do you think kids can’t sit still on adult furniture? Because it is so uncomfortable, it just doesn’t fit their bodies! That is why I recline, so that I can sit all the way back in the couch and my legs are supported. I really wish there were a way to lift up the leg support without the back of the sofa reclining quite as much as it does, but that is for a letter to Lazy-boy, not for this narrative. Back to the story…
“Look at this,” Bill says as he holds out his laptop so I can read what is on the monitor. I begin to read, “Glenna Mae Hite Bailey, 79, of Kingsport, Sullivan Co TN, went home to be with the Lord Wednesday March 18, 2009 at Indian Path Medical Center.”
Bill’s Aunt Glenna. I only met her once, a little over a ago. We spent a delightful afternoon in her living room in Kingsport; with me furiously taking notes while she and Bill reminisced about days gone by. They talked about what life was like back then, when Bill was a child and Glenna was a bride. Bill had spent the previous winter scanning over 5000 family photographs and negatives he inherited from his parents and begged/borrowed from friends and relatives. They are all on his laptop, which he brought with him on this visit. So there were many visual reminders shared between him and his Aunt that helped to keep the stories coming. This is a photo of Bill playing with his ball that he had blown up himself. His Uncle Perry was quite a tease, and “he busted it and Billy was mad about it” so Aunt Glenna told him to not be mad and she would bring him another. Billy said he said he wanted six so she brought him six balls!

Bill, age 4, playing with ball from Glenna
We had such a wonderful time that day! As we were leaving Glenna made us promise to come back and see her again, and of course we promised. Life has such a way of interfering with the best intentions.
So much has happened to us in the past year. I was in a car accident that left me under a doctor’s care from March until November. He was hospitalized with pneumonia. I was hospitalized with pancreatitis. We only took one 3-day trip all year and that one fell between his hospitalization and mine. We took the motorcycle down to Wise County, VA — the heart of Appalachia– so he could show me the places where his ancestors lived and his grandparents are buried. It was a wonderful trip but that is another story for another day.
We both took off work on Friday and headed to Kingsport TN from our home in Falling Waters WV. We arrived at the funeral home and mixed and mingled with Bill’s relatives and Glenna’s family and friends. I couldn’t help but think about our promise to return and the fact that it had to be under these circumstances. The old cliches are always true, aren’t they? Don’t put off until tomorrow what you can do today… Tomorrow never comes…
March 14, 2009 - Posted by - 0 Comments
The graphic that accompanies this post was rendered at the site www.wordle.net using all of the words on this blog to date as a reference. It was fun seeing all of the different word clouds that were created from the “raw materials.”

March 7, 2009 - Posted by - 5 Comments
I am so frustrated, angry, and disappointed I don’t even know where to begin. I guess I should say that my child is correct – everything IS my fault. Not for the reasons she states but I’ll get to that.
I have a very needy child. I’m sure you know the type. Poor life decisions, worse friends, and always experiencing a life-crisis. I really shouldn’t say “child” as she is no longer a child. The benchmark for passing from childhood to adulthood has passed, if you count it in years. I don’t think you can classify someone who is almost 30 years old a child anymore. Ah, well, in my mind and heart this individual will always be a beloved child for whom I would lay down my life.
My friends and advisors tell me STOP. Let her go it alone. Let go of her. However, this particular child of mine has always had problems with social skills and I can see and feel inside her heart. I know she is loving and caring. I see her potential, I see what she could become, and the happiness it could bring into her life. That of course will never happen. It is the stubbornness, and the inability to accept responsibility for her actions, and her own procrastination that leads to the problems. There is always an excuse of course. There is always a self-justification to allow her to put the blame for her problems on the back of someone else. MY problem is that I am the one who bails her out and invariably the one who receives the blame for whatever doesn’t end up the way she had envisioned.
A couple of years ago she pulled up stakes. She put everything she owned into a U-Haul and moved 1000 miles away to start a new life. Before she made that decision, I offered a suggestion to her. Store her belongings (I would be happy to keep them for her) and board her animals with friends for a month or so. Go to visit her siblings in the old home state and see what it’s like there since she hadn’t been back since her very early teen years. While staying with her siblings get a job and work until she had the money for her own apartment. Then come back, pick up her animals and furniture, and head out for her new life adventure.
Did she take my advice? Of course she didn’t. She put everything she owned in a U-haul trailer, packed her animals in her car and headed west. She showed up on her sister’s doorstep with all her belongings, four dogs and a very large snake. Two of the dogs suffer from the “ban the breed” stigma so they are illegal in that city. Her sister was living in a two-bedroom apartment with her own dog and two children. The situation did not work out. The friction between the sisters grew daily as the crowded conditions and tension over animal vs. child behaviors grew, and finally came to a head when the landlord threatened evection over the presence of the illegal dogs. Did I come to the rescue once again? Of course I did.
It just happened she was due to start a job in a few days. I sent her the money to stay in a motel and board the dogs during the day until she was financially able to move into her own apartment in a neighboring city that allowed that breed of dog.
The next crisis came when her drivers’ license was either lost or stolen, I don’t remember which. Before she could get a new license and register her vehicle in her new state, she had to have documentation from her old state. That was a problem because of past parking tickets, towing charges, storage charges, the car being repossessed from the state lot (that wasn’t her fault, either, she really did pay the car off and she can prove it, too – another recurring life-theme). She needed about $$$ to clear everything up.
I thought okay, she has a job and a place to live, has her siblings close by for moral support, I will clear up this last hurdle from her old life, and she will be able to start fresh. She will finally be self-sufficient and I won’t have to bail her out any more. Yes, I sent the money. One thing lead to another, she quit her job for another one, moved out of the apartment in which her rent and animal deposit were seriously in arrears to a live/work and roommate situation, and started a second job as a wedding DJ. She has been a wedding DJ for years and is very good at it, too. The problem is the income is sporadic so it always has to be a second job. To make a long story short, she fought with the wife of the owner of the DJ company and lost that job, and fought with the owner of the place where she was living and working and was evicted. I will never know that story, and I think I would rather not.
She “hated” her old home state, wanted to move back from where she started and didn’t have the money to rent another trailer to head back “home.” I wonder if she even thought about my original advice that she tries it out before uprooting her life totally.
She decided to rent a storage space for her belongings, pack what she could fit in the car, and drive back. My advice to her was to bring her DJ equipment back with her. I told her it was her bread-and-butter. Take the tools of your trade and leave the rest. I helped her once again by paying the first few months rent on the storage space for her.
When she got here, she told me she had left most of her clothes behind. I spent over $$$ on clothing that if not on sale would have cost $$$+. Not a whole new wardrobe but all of the basics were covered. She needed clothes in order to get a job, right? Do you sense a recurring theme here?
Now she needs to get a new drivers’ license. Lo and behold! She needs about $$$ before they will give it to her. So what happened to the $$$ I sent for this purpose? “Oh, I needed it for something else so I spent it.” I was furious! I believe if I can only get her to the place where the playing field is even she can start fresh and finally grow her life. She needs a car in order to have a job. So once again, I paid even though to this day I am still upset that I had to pay to get this expensive problem resolved twice.
Now back to her DJ equipment. Against my advice, she left it behind. Once again, I step up to the plate. Did I mention I also paid for some of this equipment? She wanted me to send the money to some new friend she met out there. I said no, I would send the $$$ for shipping to her brother and have him take care of the equipment. Judging by her past choice of friends, I didn’t want to send that much money to a stranger. She fussed about that, but those were my conditions. The gear arrived with some damage, which she blames on her brother. Of course, she says the real blame is MINE because I wouldn’t send the money to the person SHE wanted it sent to. She reminds me of if very, very often and very, very vocally. I bite my tongue so as not to say if she would have brought it back with her the problem would not even exist.
What is the next crisis? Her computer is having problems. She needs her computer to do her work. Whom does she call for help? Okay, I say, I will pay up to $100 for diagnosis and repair but no more. The bill came to $$$. Need you ask? Of course I did!
When her old car finally died, I swore to myself I would not get involved. And I didn’t. She was making do without transportation; renting cars, paying friends for rides, taking public transportation. Her financial situation was getting worse, she needed a full-time job, and for that, she needed reliable transportation. I saw that she was making progress in her life and her behavior towards me had greatly improved. She was making progress with her life, if she only had a car things would be so much easier for her.
After four or five months of watching her work hard trying to improve her lot and make ends meet, I told her I would pay $$$$ towards a down-payment if she could make the further payments. We both kept an eye out for a car that would be reliable and affordable. When she found the car she wanted, she was unable to qualify for the loan even with the down payment because of her self-employed, no regular income status.
My husband and I talked it over and agreed having reliable transportation would make a big difference. He offered to take out a loan against his retirement account but she would have to sign a note and make payments to us instead. Between the two of us, we ended up paying $$$$$. The car was only $$$$. We paid for the car, a two-year warranty on the engine and transmission, car insurance for six months, taxes and fees, and a land-line phone so she could start a telemarketing job. She signed a promissory note and made an agreement that she would come and work for me one day a month for a few months until she had a full-time job and could make regular payments.
Do you remember her previous motor vehicle problems? The ones for which I already paid $$$ – twice? When we went to pay the taxes to register the vehicle, the motor vehicle department said she owed another $$$ to clear up that problem once and for all. She threw a fit right there in the DMV. This was another case of, “I already paid it and I can prove it” so I told her to calm down, I would pay the fees and she could get the paperwork when she got back home, apply for a refund, and pay me back. She fumed the whole time about how stupid the State was and they should have a record and on and on and on and on. Too bad for me, when she got home and checked there was no paperwork. All together, I paid $$$$ to enable her to register her vehicle. I have no idea what she did with all that previous money.
There was a problem with the car when we bought it – the service engine soon light was on. The dealer said they would fix it. She took delivery of the car and had 30 days to have it repaired at their expense. It is now almost four months later. The problem is not fixed. The dealer says it is beyond the 30 days they allowed so they will not pay. The warranty does not cover it because it is not mechanical. It will cost $$$ to fix. Now whose fault is this? Why, MINE of course. Because I made her pay $$$$ for a warranty that she never wanted and that doesn’t even pay for anything that is wrong with the car. “BUMPER TO BUMPER!” she screams. “THEY SAID BUMPER TO BUMPER AND THEY WON’T EVEN PAY TO FIX THE LOCK ON THE TRUNK!” She is so mad at me over this she refused to come to do the February work in lieu of making a payment on the Note. I reminded her she has not paid anything for the car or warranty, not $$$$, one red cent. She chooses to ignore that fact and now is in default of her Note.
Did she ever get the telemarketing job for which I paid to have her land-line phone installed? No. She has lots of excuses, but no job. Did she ever get the agreed-upon “anything, even fast-food full-time job for a paycheck” job to tide her over while she is looking for a career-type job? Of course, she has not.
Therefore, as I said at the beginning of this narrative, yes, everything IS my entire fault. It is my fault because I keep thinking she will change her behavior. It is my fault because I keep thinking she really wants a better life. It is my fault because I keep thinking she will take responsibility for her life and make better choices. These are not the reasons she thinks it is my fault. She thinks it is my fault because I didn’t give money to a stranger, and because I recommended a warranty that she “didn’t want to have to pay for” and isn’t BUMPER TO BUMPER.
Someone needs to learn a lesson from all of this. Now, who do YOU think it will be? My husband is betting that I will cave again at the next crisis. Are you a betting individual? Will you take his bet?
February 22, 2009 - Posted by - 0 Comments
When was Hortense Rita Dowd Deane born? No one really knows for sure. Hortense was a foundling. Back in those days when a child was found and examined by a doctor, the doctor would determine an approximate age and the child would be given as birth date the closest holiday that corresponded to the determined age of the child. My Grandmother was given the birth date of February 22, 1901 — George Washington’s birthday. She would have been 108 years old today, but only lived 29 years, 11 months.

- Hortense Rita Dowd Deane
I don’t know very much about my Grandmother’s early life. I do know she was born in New York City and was adopted by Bernard Dowd and Anna Carter Dowd but I don’t know how old she was at the time. I know she was a beautiful woman, and that she loved to sing. She and my Grandfather, Francis (Frank) Harold Deane, were married on December 28, 1919, in New York City.
Grandpa and Grandma Deane had two children, first my Aunt Audrey on October 4, 1920, then my Mother, Frances (Frankee) Estelle on December 3, 1927. My Aunt gave my Mother the middle name Estelle. My Aunt and my Mother both always loved to dance. Grandmother encouraged their dancing and both girls took dancing lessons. They were good dancers and performed together at the New Amsterdam Theatre on 42nd Street, which is the theatre famous for the Zigfield Follies. They also appeared at the Brooklyn Paramount Theatre, the Majestic Theatre, and the Roxy Theatre in Times Square.
In January of 1931, when Aunt Audrey was 10 and Mother was three, Grandma contracted scarlet fever. She was very ill, and my Mother was ill at the same time. One day while brushing her teeth Grandma got a bristle from the toothbrush caught between two of her teeth. She used a tweezers to pull it out but neglected to sterilize the tweezers first. In her weakened condition, she got an infection that turned into gangrene and on February 4, 1931, she died. Penicillin had not yet been invented. Something we take for granted, we think is such a simple thing, could have saved her life.
In those days, the body was laid out in the parlor and visitors came to the house to pay their respects. One night, while Grandmother was laid out in the parlor, my Mother entered the room to see her Mother one last time. She told me she saw a woman coming into the room from the ceiling, so Mother could only see the top half of her body. The woman reached out her hand to my Grandmother and Grandmother reached up and took the woman’s hand. In this manner, my Mother watched both of them disappear from the room, through the ceiling. My Mother always believed she saw an angel who had come to take my Grandmother’s soul to Heaven. No one believed her, of course, they all said she was dreaming, or that her fever was so high she was hallucinating. Mother always said she saw what she saw, and I for one believe her.
February 21, 2009 - Posted by - 0 Comments
Today was the grand opening of FIVE GUYS BURGERS and FRIES in Hagerstown, MD. It is only about 10 miles away from my house. You may not think that sounds very exciting, but we have been known to drive 69 miles one way to eat a FIVE GUYS burger before any outlets of the franchise were built any closer to where we live. You must be wondering why we would drive so far just to eat a hamburger. The point is FIVE GUYS does not sell just any ol’ hamburger. Those of you who were raised on McDonalds, Burger King, and Wendy’s have no idea of what a treat a real hamburger can be.

FIVE GUYS was a family-owned business when I first started eating there back in 2002. I lived in Northern Virginia then and that is where they originated. The five guys are brothers who decided to take their college fund and start a business instead. They opened their first store in 1986. By 2001, they had opened another five stores all around the Washington, DC metro area. In 2002, they opened their business to franchises in Virginia and Maryland. They sold out of franchise territory within 18 months and started to franchise the rest of the country in 2003. Now they have over 300 locations in over 25 states. Every single store has exactly the same menu and no matter where you go (I’ve eaten FIVE GUYS in at least six states) the hamburgers are the same – juicy and delicious!
Each burger patty is hand-formed from beef that has never seen the inside of a freezer. It is prepared to your specifications… there are over 250,000 ways to order a hamburger at FIVE GUYS and never a charge for any topping choice. All burgers are cooked well-done but believe me they are perfect and juicy every single time.
I always order a Little Cheeseburger with mayo, onions, lettuce, pickles, and tomatoes. Once in a great while I’ll get a kosher hot dog with grilled onions and tomatoes. Then again, I’ve put grilled onions and mushrooms on my burger, too. But I digress. Let me tell you about the French fries!
All the potatoes are from Idaho. Those great big giant russet potatoes. They slice them fresh every day, and then give them a water bath to wash off all the starch before cooking. They are fried to perfection in pure peanut oil. The outside is a nice golden brown color and the insides are like a perfectly cooked baked potato. None of those McDonalds cardboard sticks! My mouth is watering just thinking about them. By the way, if you’ve never eaten at FIVE GUYS here is some advice – only order one regular order of fries per two people. Yes, they are very generous portions!

As I said before tonight was their grand opening at this location. Before today, the closest FIVE GUYS was about 30 – 35 miles away. We arrived a little before six (they are open from 11am to 10pm). They had two cash registers open and we were order number 1140 on our cash register. Our order pick-up number was 40, and they were currently serving order number 15. Did I say the place was crowded? All of the people pictured in line (and they were all behind us!) had already ordered and were waiting for their order. And people just kept coming in. The owner was behind the counter and kept asking if everyone in line had already ordered. He was astounded that they all had, and that there were still people coming through the door in groups of three to five individuals.
It was controlled chaos. Noisy, yes, with that many people all in one building. I’ll bet the owner wished he had leased a building twice that size! Even so, it still would have been brimming. How long did we wait for our order to be prepared? Oh, about 40 minutes. Were we impatient? Not in the least. What a show it was to see all of those people, patiently waiting for their hamburgers, knowing at the end of their wait would be one of the most mouth-watering treats on the planet! The woman behind us in line was talking on her cell phone (I’m not sure how she could hear!) and I overheard her say, “…he had one of these hamburgers for lunch and he wants another one.” I don’t think she had ever had one before. She was in for a real treat!

The employees behind the counter were working non-stop. I did feel sorry for them, this was only their first day, they still had four hours to go, and they looked tired. I’ll bet they had no idea what they were signing up for when they applied for those jobs! There was a girl sweeping up peanut shells (did I tell you they have peanuts while you wait?) and she asked me if other FIVE GUYS had all the peanut mess. I assured her they did, but advised her to let her boss know that some FIVE GUYS stores have those little mini-galvanized-type buckets on the tables and extras on the counters so people can put their peanut shells in there instead of leaving piles on the tables and the floors. I myself don’t indulge in the peanuts. I like to save room for the fries! <grin>
When we did get our order, we were not disappointed. The hamburger was juicy, the fries were delicious, and I ate until I couldn’t eat another bite.

Now you may think this is the end of my tale but I did promise you an epicurean delight night and by the time we were done eating it was only about 7:30. Next stop – Krumpe’s Do-Nuts!
Krumpe’s was a new treat for us. Bill read a local news article a while back about this do-nut shop in Hagerstown. It was a family business, opened in 1936 as “Mother Krumpe’s Do-nut” shop. It was closed for a while during WWI due to not only a shortage (and rationing) of flour and sugar, but a boycott of German heritage business in the United States. If you want to read the whole story, you can go to their website, but suffice to say the son of the original owner, after his service during WWII, opened “Krumpe’s Do-nuts” in Hagerstown in 1948. They moved to their current location in 1950, which is in a building behind their house.
We decided we would try the do-nuts sometime and promptly forgot about it. Then we got our new edition of Blue Ridge Country magazine, and Krumpe’s was featured. According to the article, it is not unusual for the shop to serve up to 4000 customers between 7:00 pm and 2:00 am on a Friday night. The article also said it was hard to find, in a small building back in the alley with only an “open” sign to tell you that you’ve arrived.
We didn’t have the exact address but thought we could find it. Wrong! We looked where we thought it would be, drove around a bit more, and finally gave up. We only gave up for a little while! We relaxed at home for a while to let our burgers and fries settle, and then about 10pm headed out again, this time with the address entered into the GPS. We did find Krumpe’s and I really was surprised to find, in 28 degree weather, the shop was filled to capacity and there was a line outside the door. And it was about 10:30 at night! We stood in line, which moved faster than I thought it would. One guy in front of us ordered seven dozen do-nuts! He was taking them back to work as a treat for the night shift.
Bill decided we should get a dozen. I thought that was a little excessive; after all, there are only two of us. He said we would eat them over the next three days. Wrong again! It is Saturday morning and I’ve already had four! From now on, Krumpe’s is going to be a special treat and I won’t buy more than half a dozen at a time! Yes, they too were worth the wait!