What a wonderful Monday: mid eighties and humidity about 35%. A beautiful blue sky, light wind. Sun wasn’t too strong. Air smelled and felt good. I don’t mind Mondays but it does sometimes takes all day to get into a work groove. Especially now that I work a four day week. I go to work at nine and don’t even notice what kind of day it is. Waking up to sitting at my desk takes about 40 minutes and it takes longer than that for me to wake up. So I don’t even begin to notice what kind of day it is until midmorning. I have windows and a skylight at work. I see if the trees are moving with the wind. How fast clouds, if there are any, move. Are people carrying umbrellas, wearing jackets, or down to wear wearing only what is legally necessary, looking like they’d taken an unrefreshing shower. By five o’clock I just want to get home. The car is heated up from the blazing sun and I have the windows open and hot wind blowing on me.  But tonight it wasn’t so bad. Sitting out on the balconey was lovely: A real treat before the sun sets.

According to Google, the last day that my website recorded a third party malware was June 28, 2010. The website has to go 90 days without a recording of third party malware in order to become a safe site again.

Some of the things that I would that has been of interest to me during this blackout is a NYTimes Scientist at Work Blog that the curator of the frog exhibit, Dr. Chris Raxworthy, that I worked back in 2004 was a participant. The link is to the right.

The blooming of the corpse flower at the Houston Museum of Natural Science. I love stuff like this and think that this is what I find so cool about the internet. Bringing us the world.  That link is to the right.

Just wanted to keep you posted. Keep cool!

My nephew got married, first of his generation. I saw a possum (only my second live possum ever). I saw a shooting star (not my first but the first in a long long time). I tried a papaya, goat cheese and portabello mushroom. not bad but not going to go on my favorites list.

And the weekend is only half over…

What a beautiful spring day!  I sat out on the balcony with the boys after work. I was beat. Mondays are always exhausting. Plus, my coworker called in sick.

But sitting in my Adirondack chair, with Charlie on the pillow beside me and Simon climbing all over me, I felt great. I alternately read  my mystery and stared at the sky. It was just so blue. The birds were chirping in the oak tree. A light breeze made the chimes sound. The temperature was spot on and the clouds were perfect. They were absolutely perfect.

I don’t know what kind of clouds they were. I don’t need to know. I tried to read up on clouds a couple of times but it just didn’t interest me.  I now know how my mother feels about birds. She told me a long time ago that she loved watching them but didn’t need to know what they were called. I thought that was nutz. I want to know what every bird is and I want to see every single kind. But clouds, they are beautiful whether they are high up or down low. There’s the wispy cotton candy variety that covers the sky and the kind that look like balls of cotton. I love to watch dark massive clouds produce lightning. I have sat out on the balcony through many a storm. I love watching different layers of clouds moving at different speeds. I find peace in watching clouds.

Today the scene from my balcony is perfect. Vultures soaring. A crow being mobbed. House sparrows flitting about. Neighbors driving home. Children laughing and yelling in the playground. The sound of the tennis balls being pounded back and forth.

So I read some more and and watched the clouds some more. I realized that I had never played that game – what do you see in the clouds. I looked and in an instant saw something. Great Britain! Great Britain in my clouds. There was Cornwall, Devon, and over there is Norfolk and Essex, up though York and into Scotland. Up there were the Orkneys, Hebrides and the Isle of Skye! I love that part of the world.

I love geography and birds and other stuff. I am always trying to increase my knowledge on these subjects. But I’ve learned that there are other subjects I can enjoy without explanation, labels and a guide book.

This is a Memorial Day presentation my sister gave this morning…

            Welcome to all who have come to honor the men and women who have died for our country.  I would like to thank those who have invited me to speak; it is a privilege to be before you this Memorial Day. 

I would like to acknowledge that there will be times that I refer to soldiers as men; this is because during the Civil War women were not found on the field of battle.  When I reference our more current history I am honored and appreciate the inclusion of women in the words I share with you today.

It was a beautiful fall day in November near Spotsylvania, VA where a friend and I hiked the trails that meander through the battlefield known as The Wilderness.  We couldn’t have asked for a better day to make our way through the wooded area of honeysuckle vines and tangled dense undergrowth that gave this area its name.  The sky was a sharp blue with no clouds, and looking up through the yellow ash leaves the contrast of color added to the beauty of the day.  The only sounds were the birds chirping occasionally and our feet crunching the fallen leaves.  The air was fresh and slightly cool for the morning hours. 

However, the calmness and beauty of the day betrayed the brutality of what had happened on this land in May of 1865.   We were alarmed to see the scars of the earthworks made by the Union and Confederate armies; these entrenchments in places were only yards apart.  The embankments the soldiers hid behind were only thigh high; to shoot would leave them wide open to enemy fire.  When the battle took place the impenetrable scrub growth and rough terrain made movement and vision difficult; this hindered the evacuation of the wounded.   The fighting was fierce and lasted for two days.  The most tragic event of this first encounter between Generals Lee and Grant occurred during the night.  An underbrush fire broke out and burned alive those wounded left on the battle ground.

Yet on our hike we looked upon the beauty of nature, and couldn’t imagine the battle that had stained with blood the very ground on which we stood.  Casualties for this battle were over 28,000 (3,700 killed, almost 20,000 wounded, and about 5,000 captured/missing).  As the reality of the place and events continued to sink in we grew silent; it felt as if carrying on a conversation on this holy ground would be sacrilege.

As we stood between the Union and the Confederate lines, unsettled by their proximity, I heard my friend whisper through tears, ‘those poor boys, those poor boys, who will remember them.  Those poor boys.’  On Veterans Day weekend, in the early 21^st century, she asked the question on behalf of thousands of men who had fought on that land over a century before. 

Who will remember?

The wars that the US has fought before the twentieth century were on American soil.  The battlefields remind us of the price our freedom cost; they are tangible proofs of the bravery of those committed to that freedom.  No one, no longer has living memory of wars fought on our soil.  To lose these places of heritage is to jeopardize our collective memory of major events in our life as a country.

In 2008 a mega retailer proposed to build a superstore next to the battlefield site; in 2009 it was approved by the local Board of Supervisors.  And thus, this battlefield is on the course of so many other sites that have disappeared to development.  Consider the Manassas battlefield, the site of 1^st and 2^nd Battles of Bull Run, it’s crisscrossed with two and four lane highways; rush hour commuters driving past where the brave fell.

Who will remember?

How many generations have passed since the French & Indian War, the Revolutionary War, the War of 1812, the Civil War, the Spanish American War, WWI?  How many soldiers remain who fought in WWII, the Korean War?  How many times have we heard taps for those who have fought in Viet Nam, the Gulf War.  And now, there is a new generation of men and women who are being honored and remembered from the current wars in the Middle East.  Each generation’s recent memory holds fast to those within living memory; but what of the names of distant past?

In Mississippi there is a rural cemetery filled with graves of both Union and Confederate soldiers; it is unkempt and forgotten; no longer maintained.  Are these men to be forgotten, having died so many years ago that we feel disconnected from them?  Is not this day the day when those forgotten are given their due and honor.  Did they die on the battlefield calling out to mothers and wives, praying that their deaths not be in vain and that their names not die on the lips of time?  

In a 150 years who will remember our soldiers who fought in our current wars?  As time moves forward more and more men and women are added to the list of those who we honor.

As we stand here we know the names of those who recently died, whose presence here is a living memory of service.  It’s hard to forget those faces in the photographs of our loved ones who grace our walls and photo albums.  But as each generation moves on, who will the next generation remember?

Who will lift up the names of those who have died for their country?  Have you walked through cemeteries and seen the ‘unknown’ grave marker?  How many men and women don’t have a family to give the gift of memory, to remember their name? 

In our electronic world there is a real threat of forgetting the past when the future is at our fingertips.  It is up to us to remember and this is the day that compels us to name those names and speak on behalf of those who are forgotten and unknown.  For someone lies in that grave.  A son, daughter, wife, husband, father, mother, sister, brother; someone lies in that grave. 

It is the names we know, the people we know, friends and family that we honor this day.  But it is also the countless soldiers and service people throughout our history that we commemorate.  There are those whose fate we know, and those whose fate we don’t, only that they are gone.  We lift up those names we do know as well as honoring those whose names we don’t.  But what we acknowledge is that they have all given of themselves for country and home. 

It is a scene we’ve witnessed time and time again.  A family gathers for the Thanksgiving meal; people have traveled distances to break bread with one another.  But as they gather around the table a chair is left vacant.  Last Thanksgiving that chair was occupied, but not today.   It is now a silent witness to one who was and is no more. 

In 1861 the family of Lieutenant John William Grout experienced the vacant chair at their Thanksgiving; he was killed in the Battle of Balls Bluff, VA.  To commemorate his death a civil war song was written that would echo the experience of many families then, and today; it’s called The Vacant Chair.  I would like to share that song with you.  (The Vacant Chair)(see links)

How many vacant chairs has our country seen?

Who will remember?  We will remember.  It is our honor and our duty to remember those who have died and those who have served; let it never be said that we forget.  Let us teach our children the importance of memory and remembrance.  It is they who in the future will carry on what we do here today so that generations will continue to honor the known and unknown who have given their lives for country and home.  As we see the colors of red, white, and blue we think not only of those of our own community and families that have served and died.  But for all men and women who have honored the name of the United States of America by giving of themselves. 

Who will remember?  We will.

Today I saw everything. Everything was important. Everything was meaningful. My superstitious self was in high gear. I woke up or rather got out of bed later than I should have. I started my bad day column with a check mark. Couldn’t find hair brush. Another mark.

I saw a family with eight goslings and then a family with three goslings on my way to work. Apply those to the good day column. Parking spot found right in front of my work. That also goes in the good day column. The day’s scale is leaning to the good…

Inexplicable anxiety felt over a staff meeting scheduled at 10am. The feelings were so strong that I had to disgorge them onto my coworker. She’s a tough nut. I don’t think that she has columns in her head. Partial furlough imposed at meeting. My mind reeled and the columns disappeared in the enormity of this last check mark. My budget is so tight already from the financial problems that spun wildly out of control last year. I had them pretty much worked out. Saved a little money for emergencies. But this last weekend I splurged on new clothes to wear to my nephew’s wedding. Ahhh, mark mark mark in bad day column. This could well spill over into the bad year column.

Coworker noticed a huge dent on the right rear quarter panel of my truck. Do trucks have quarter panels? I was so disheartened. First dent on it and it is 5 years old. Coworkers said that it should be easy to fix. But I can’t afford that now. Hey I couldn’t afford it before the 10% cut in pay.

I finished what work I had to and left for my second visit to the wound center to treat my left leg. I feel very self consious about getting such high end health care for my leg. What can I say, super low self esteem here, right?

Took two wrong turns to get there, evidence that I was still reeling from the news from work. The columns came back into my head and threatened to topple into the street in front of me.

Got a good parking space. (I place a lot of emphasis on the proximity of my parking space to my destination. I know I obsess about that, and those damn check marks.) It was nice to see a little check on the good day side.

Sat in the waiting room and started a new mystery. In the first chapter, the philosophy of the bad guy was described as Death can solve a lot of problems. No man. No problem. Okay, this might not be the right book to read right now…

Sat in the treatment room for the longest time knowing that they were out there and I would get my turn but feeling left out, forgotten and isolated. Left to my thoughts and tears about my budget. The wound is healing well, came in before it got too bad. And somehow that goes into the good column rather than a pat on the back for taking care of myself.

Left there and driving down Rt 9 saw a wild turkey in someone’s side yard. Wow! A big black bold check mark. I love seeing turkeys. Thank you, God. I know that you are not a micro-manager but thanks for that turkey and those goslings this morning. Then I saw a red pick up truck with the whole side mashed in and he was still driving it. See my dent’s not so bad. And the truck had a bumper sticker on it that read Have a Nice Day!

That did it! Good day column filled up! To the max! Fuck the furlough. I will survive. Gloria Gaynor, sing my theme song!

My first goslings of the year! They are really hard to see but trust me they are there. Last year I saw them first on April 29th. Isn’t nature wonderful!

Today is my second anniversary of my blog and my birthday. Thanks, Alice, for setting this up for me. It has been a wonderful two years and I’m glad to share it with you!

Today has been wonderful. A program that I developed at work has become a wonderful project to be a part of. Today my boss said (on camera, mind you) that it is one of his favorite programs and that the event this weekend is the most exciting thing we’ve ever done.

I ‘m sorry to be so cryptic but I’m not ready to reveal my secret identity to the masses that read this blog. Maybe because I watch too much crime drama and read too many murder mysteries. But when I can go on-line and find someone’s address and phone number without much effort for free, I err on the side of caution. I’m also glad there are many Jo Merchants out there.

On a lighter note:

Upon going out the door this morning, I found a freshly delivered UPS box and stuck it inside the apt for when I got home. I knew what it was – snacks for the boys.

When I got home tonight they had torn it open as evidenced by the picture. See the claw marks on it! Or as my mother called them – talons. They had eaten half a bag!! I wonder how long it took them. First to smell the snacks through the packaging, corrugated cardboard and packing tape; then to actually get it open. I think it was mostly Simon. If there were teeth marks on there then it might have been Charlie. Simon is more apt to use his paws to open things and Charlie his mouth.

I sure think there are some tummy aches in my house tonight.

today i saw tulips, tulips in glorious colors. though i love daffodils, tulips can take my breath away…

The Lord has risen! He has risen indeed. 

Philippians 4:7:

   ^{6 -7}Don’t fret or worry. Instead of worrying, pray. Let petitions and praises shape your worries into prayers, letting God know your concerns. Before you know it, a sense of God’s wholeness, everything coming together for good, will come and settle you down. It’s wonderful what happens when Christ displaces worry at the center of your life.