traveling up and down the blind highway

After a week of temperatures in the nineties and high humidity, I am looking forward to a cool wet start to the week. The west side of Michigan averages 30 to 40 inches yearly. A close by city of Grandville has recorded 38 inches of precipitation so far this year.
I noticed our front lawn had a large crop of toadstools popping up in the grass. Another local nearby town, Rockford, had one rainfall this past Wednesday and received 2 inches of rain in one hour. Farmers are late getting into their fields to plant, how and weed with the heavy equipment.
The west side of the lake is no better. A friend in Milwaukee reported she hasn’t watered her container garden more that once this season. My brother, who lives in Manitowoc Wisconsin on the lake shore has experienced more cool and rainy weather this year.
Fires in Canada have triggered air quality alerts in Minnesota and across to the Great Lakes.
The national weather service predicts 17 to 27 hurricanes in 2024 season, a larger than normal number.
We have seen flooding on the Texas coast and in Florida. high fluctuations in weather is seen in many states. On the west coast, though no wild fires are currently active, the potential for fires due is high wind until Tuesday.
Changes in climate and weather patterns will affect our lives now and in the future.
What can we do to help? The biggest, change our attitude. This is not a right wing or a left wing statement. It is a pro earth belief. What we choose to do today will affect the quality of our lives.
I have felt the difficulty of breathing on days with poor air quality. I want to work to decrease my footprints on this land. Walk softly and carry a large inhaler!!
Inhale
Inside, air is cooled, conditioning.
News reporters extremes in conditions.
How many times have we changed the channel?
Always it is someone else’s problem.
“Let’s take a walk in the sunshine.”
Each breath hurts our lungs, we slow the pace.
Climate change has caught up with us.

We celebrate the Summer Solstice this week. The longest day of the year will be on June 21. Here in Michigan, the day will have sixteen hours of sunlight from sunrise to sunset. In some cultures the mid-mummer’s day is filled with dancing, singing, building bonfires and wearing of costumes. Some people will choose to wear nothing at all. With our prediction of a high of 90 degrees, that may tempt some.
This year, my daughter Ruth will wed Aaron Gould in a ceremony at a waterfall in Sequoia National Park near the Summer Solstice. They will be celebrating this whole week.
The waterfalls in the park are expected to be flowing with more water due to the amount of rain and snow in the Sierra Nevada range. Weather will be sunny with a high of 69 degrees in the day and 49 degrees in the evening. My daughter will walk to be married at Bridal Veil Falls. She will be strolling in her gown and white hiking boots to the falls. John and I wish the newly wed couple well and look forward to hearing about their adventures.
They are following in the steps of our wedding plans 33 years ago. We flew to Los Vegas, were married at midnight at a small chapel named, “Graceland.” We honeymooned in Death Valley visiting many natural wonders such as the Salt Flats, Devils golf course and a colorful cliff named Artist Palette.
The longer daylight and the natural scenery will make this a memorable ceremony.
Whether you choose to celebrate with friends, quietly or not at all, Mid-summer’s eve is a time to enjoy the longer daylight hours.

Solstice

summer’s midpoint, inspires parties.
Others mark the day getting married.
Love and Magic abounds.
Several ways to enjoy the day.
Time to have bonfires and dance as the sun sets.
In some cultures, people wear costumes.
Carried away, a few wear nothing.
Each to his or her preference.
Carolaspot@aol.com June 17, 2024

Flag Day was first celebrated in 1877. The design created by Betsy Ross, was adapted by congress as The country's flag. Over the years the number of stars have been modified to show the current number of states. The red and white stripes remain constant for the original 13 colonies. It was approved by the Continatal Congress in 1777 as the flag of the new country. In 1885, to celebrate the one hundred anniversary of the flag adaption ,it became an official holiday

My family had a large 4 ft. by six ft. flag that was first displayed in front ot the Northville Electric Shop, that my Grandfather Clifford and my Father owned together. When the flag was changed to reflect the addition of the new states of Hawaii and Alaska, my mother, kept and used the old flag. She reasoned that no one would notice or count the number of stars. The flag was used for years until the dark blue had faded to a purple.
The flag, like people is to be disposed of with honor. The best way for disposal is cremation. Many Veterans of Foreign War Posts will take old flags, and preform a short ceremony before cremation.
First the flag is folded into a triangle for the last time. The flag is placed in the center of a roaring fire. until the flag is reduced to ashes. As the flag burns, the Pledge of Allegiance is spoken. A brief of silence is observed as the fire dies to ashes. After the ceremony, the ashes are collected and buried.
On Flag Day, Citizens may display flags in their yards. Flag raising ceremonies may include reciting the Pledge of Allegiance, singing or silence as the flag is raised and lowered. Larger flags are folded by two people, held at waist level as the flag is folded lengthwise ,towards the center. Starting at the striped edge the flag it is folded in triangles from the stars towards the stripe edge. Another lengthwise fold and the smaller triangle is folded from the stripes to the stars. Larger flags maybe folded twice this way. When the flag reaches the end of the folding, the edges are tucked in the back of the last fold. The folded flag will be carried to it’s storage place.
In our home, the flag was rolled around the pole. The flag was placed in a cardboard tube until the next use. It was attached to the pole and couldn’t be folded. Each fold in the flag represents a sacrifice by fellow countrymen.
Other activities for this day may include parades and community gatherings. In our family, my Aunt Kathy Brune’s birthday is on June 14th. We wish her and the Flag a Happy Birthday.

The Pledge
I walk, slowly, holding the flag high.
People watch , hands over hearts.
Men remove their hats.
My arms ache, but I must not drop the Stars and stripes.
carolaspot June 10, 2024 copyrighted

June is a month of new beginnings. The month is named after Juno, the Queen of the Roman gods. She is married to the god Jupiter. Juno is the god of marriage, love and fertility. This may be one of the reasons that June is a traditional months to marry.
June graduations celebrate a new life phase. Summer officially starts with June.
After spring, the month features growth in flora and fauna. Increased sun and warmth encourages nature growth spurts.
June’s flower is the red rose, a symbol of love and the honeysuckle is chosen for a sweet fragrance bringing nostalgic memories of the past.
the moonstone or pearl are the birthstones for persons born in this month.
The colors to represent June are light blue, cream and white. There are many flowers in these hues. Lily of the valley, violets and forget me nots. The rose and the honeysuckle can be found in cream and white, lending a bit of elegance to floral arrangements.
Graduation parties celebrating rights of passage to the next life phase occur in June.
Nature’s flora and fauna celebrate in the warn and longer days. New life is seen in the form of babies exploring their world under the watchful eyes of their parents. Birds leave the nests ,while learning to fly. Squirrels, chipmunks, and bunnies are seen below the feeder searching for food. Honey bees, hummingbirds and butterflies are visiting new blossoms to gather nectar for their brood.
Turkeys, deer and ground hogs may cross back yards to satisfy their curiosity.
The milder winter and heavier rains have added to the increase in the insect population. Cicadas, Japanese beetle and ticks are prevalent in the wooded areas and near bodied of water. A natural solution to deter bugs from biting are essential oils. Lavender, peppermint and cedar oil will protect people and pets.
With a little forethought, we can enjoy this season with all it’s beauty.

Spring Is Busting Out All Over
Arising from a mild spring, flora bursts into blooms
bird nests overflow with cheeping.
baby bunnies and squirrels explore, while watchful mothers observe.
Fawns hide in patches of tall grass as a doe browse.
The air is filled with buzzing, humming insects at work.
Nature swells with a chorus of life.
carolaspot@aol.com, June 3, 2024

Today we remember those of our family and friends that have gone and left this world for another. While we may fondly recall incidents and interactions with the beloved, How many of us remember where their final resting place is? I started to find out.
My parents, Rita and Bruce Turnbull are both buried in Rural Hill Cemetery in Northville, Michigan. Mom’s sister, Marian and her husband Don Sonderman are buried nearby.
John’s Dad Albert Eugene Farnsworth, is buried at Downington cemetery outside Deckerville MI at the base of the thumb. John’s Mom didn’t want a funeral and was cremated. Her ashes were split, some were placed in Deckerville and the rest were distributed on the back hill. Mom would comment, I can’t walk up the steps to see the woods. Well, she has a ring side seat for the season changes. Several months later, John was cleaning the area of leaves. Clouds of Moms ashes were blown, distributed. Now she is all over the neighborhood.
My Mother’s parents, Alfred and Anna Heatley have two separate grave plots. Grandma Anna died in 1928from breast cancer. She is buried in the Kaiser family plot in Forest Lawn Memorial Park in N.W. Detroit. Alfred is buried in Chelsie MI next to his second wife, Cathrine.
My paternal grandparents are buried in Plymouth Mi. Along with several other relatives including Aunt Pearl and her first husband Gus.
On John’s side of the family, there is a discrepancy of the exact parentage of Grand father Farnsworth. The name on the birth certificate is smeared and the father’s name is unreadable or it is not mentioned. Grandma Peters had 4 different men fathering a total of nine children. She married the fourth man. He was Delbert J. Peters. From the information that John’s brother Gene reported. Most of the Farnsworth’s family are buried in Deckerville. Along side of Farnsworth’s there are a large group of Turnbull’s. Perhaps distance cousins.
Grandma Farnsworth’s parents Teophil and Helen Smolinski as well as other members of the family are buried in Forest Lawn Cemetery in Detroit on Six Mile and VanDike. The same cemetery where the Kaisers and the Smolinski, John’s mother’s families are buried.
My Great Grandfather Walter and his wife Elizabeth, are buried near Delhi Ontario, Canada .There is a Turnbull family plot there.
Clifford and Jenny Turnbull are buried in Plymouth, MI. Dad’s sister Marion and her husband George Russel, were cremated and ashes were buried in Tampa Bay.
My Brother Mike was cremated an his ashes are in an urn
Finding out information leads me to more questions. Strolling in my hometown of Northville, one notices the banners picturing the 250 veterans who have died. It reminds me to remember all those in our families who’s shoulders we are standing on . It is good to learn personal histories to better understand our thoughts, feelings and attitudes.
carolaspot@aol.com March 27 2024

My last year of college, I lived off campus in the student slum area of older homes remodeled for student rentals. I happened to find a large bedroom with a walk-in closet late in the summer. Two other students had the other two bedrooms. We shared a large bathroom with a clawfoot tub. There was a small room over the stairway. Too small for a bed, it was perfect for a T.V. room. We furnished it with several bean bag chairs.
A young man in his thirties was the owner, living in the downstairs. He was on call for maintenance when needed. He had separated the down stairs for his living quarters. The kitchen was used by all four of us. There was a basement with a washer but no dryer.
On weekends, I had the house to myself. The other women worked or visited their boyfriends.
One weekend we were all at the house. The weather was below freezing with snow flurries. I awoke on Saturday to discover the heat was out. Dialing our landlord at work, he suggested we go into his side of the house to use the fireplace until he came home. Having grown up with a fireplace, watching my father build fires, I was confident I could make a fire and keep it stoked.
Bringing in small kindling, I packed old newspapers around and between the small branches. Adding a log, it was ready to light.
“Wait! Did you check the flue to see if was opened?” I hadn’t.
Fiddling with the flue, I tested the draw of the firebox.
We took comfortable chairs and sat waiting for the heat. Unfortunately, the wind was blowing cold and strong right across the top of the chimney. One hard gust slammed the flue shut. Smoke billowed into the living room, causing us to cough and run outside. The students in the house next door called the fire department to put out the flames.
They took a fire extinguisher to douse the fire. Then one fireman wearing asbestos gloves removed the smoldering log. Now the house smelled of smoke. The little heat was gone with the departure of the firemen.
My two housemates packed their bags and went to stay with their boyfriends. My boyfriend lived over 500 miles away in the Upper Peninsula.
I filled the bathtub with hot water and took a long soak. When done, I made a pot of tea and waited for our landlord to finish work.
He didn’t say a word. Just lit the furnace and cleaned the soot from his rooms. He had told us to make a fire rather than come home from work early.
After that experience, I didn’t boast I knew how to build a fire.

Building a fire

Gather kindling in a pile.
Pack twists of newspaper in the cracks.
Remember to open the flue.
Wait for the fire to burn.
Flue slammed shut.
Smoke billows into the room.
Fire truck, fire men alight.
One carries a smoldering log outside.
I thought I knew how to build a fire.
carolaspot @aol.com May 20th 2024

I have reprinted this story from 2021.
Marguerite Heatley, Turnbull
My Mother, nicknamed Rita, was born on the original Armistice day in 1918 in The Detroit metro area. She was the second oldest of four siblings. Unlike her older sister Dorothy, Rita loved to help care for her little brother and sister.
When she was around age eight, Her Mother was sent to a Toledo hospital to be treated with advanced breast cancer. Grandpa Al Heatley drove all four children to see their Mother each Sunday after church. I found a letter written by Rita to her Mother .
Dear Mommy, We are being good and taking care of cleaning and watching each other. Baby Albert misses you very much. We are praying for you to come home soon.
Love
Rita
Grandma Annie didn’t recover and she died in the late 1920’s
The Depression of 1929 hit hart on the Heatley’s. A widower, with four young children, Al had to hire a person to care for the children and cook the meals. Al was a barber. When money was tight, people cut their own hair.
In her early teens, Rita was sent to Aunt Emily and Uncle Leo’s farm in Emily City. She was amazed that she could go into the garden and pick a
tomato or pull a carrot and eat it.
Rita had been giving some of her food portion to her siblings. This behavior continued when she was our Mother. She divided the food in sevenths but she always had the smallest portion.
She had hope to go to college but with only the five hundred dollars left from her Mother’s will, she opted for Cleary Business school. She was able to keep financial books and perform secretarial tasks.
When WWII was declared, Rita worked at the Willow Run plant, turning out bombers. She traveled with her husband , Bruce to Florida and then to California while he was in the Marines. She continue to work for military officers as a secretary.
After the war, she wanted to stay in California but Dad convinced her to return home to Northville because they both had aging parents.
Settling in a rental cottage in Wall Lake. Rita started to save for a new home in Northville.
Rita could make a nickel stretch to buy a quarter’s worth of food. With coupons, day old bread and over ripe bananas , she baked muffins, and kept five growing children clothed and fed.
My Mother had a deep draw to her Catholic faith. She once joked that if she hadn’t married my Dad, she would have been a nurse or a nun. Good thing for us kids, she married!
After twenty years, we siblings still tell stories about my Mother’s frugal ways. Such as the ten cent bunch of bananas or eat peanut butter or cereal if you are hungry and who gets the last muffin continue to be told at family gatherings.
Rita’s children and friends owe much to this quiet woman. Her way of making a person feel welcomed was well known and remembered. One of her friends called her a Super Mom.
I know that Rita would hate all this praise, but I know that we were blessed to have her as our Mother.
Recently I came across a poem my daughter wrote to me for another Mother’s Day. I lost part of it but I tried to reconstruct it here.
A Mother’s recipe
One heart filled with love
two arms to cuddle a crying child,
Two eyes in the back of her head.
Many hours of bedtime stories.
Willing to sled in the backyard.
Camped outside in a two person pup tent for most of the night.
Shared play with Grandma.
Many cups of tea at parties for Joey and friends..
Watching,, learning, I grew into a woman,
The image of my mother.
Love you Mom.
Ruth
carolaspot@aol.com Mother Memories Nay 12, 2024

While in college, my roommate was a member of the Chicano Student Club. I was interested in their activities so I joined. To raise funds for scholarships, they organized dances with the club cooking the Mexican fare. Tacos, frijoles, burritos and rice were offered to the paid guests. Working in the kitchen, I soon learned several swear words in Spanish. After the meals were served, Connie, my roommate told me the young man I was talking with was making inappropriate remarks in Spanish.
“If you feel me kick you under the table, slap the man talking.”
Soon I was in conversation with a good looking man in an Hawaiian shirt and jeans. As he leaned close and whispered a comment in Spanish, I felt a sharp kick to my leg. Without hesitation, I slapped the speaker.
Later, after I had danced with another young man, he made a comment as he pulled out my chair for me. As I sat down, I felt a hard kick under the table. Turning to the speaker, I landed a hard slap to his cheek.
Before the evening was done, I had convinced many people I knew Spanish, word spread.
“That gringo understands Spanish”. The disrespect and use of crude suggestions stopped. My calf took longer to heal.

Baile

accordion, guitar

sweet tenor croon

words of love

in Spanish tongue

strong elixir

amor

carolaspot@aol.com

May 6th 2024

I have always loved animals, but they don’t all go for me. I have found that as I have less sight, some dogs and cats take advantage of the situation.
My daughter’s cat, Leo, has know me for 11 years. He delights walking just outside my reach. He will flick his tail to thwart my attempts to pet him. Only when he has been alone for several days, will he allow me to hold him on my lap. He demands attention by loud meows.
My nephew brought a new dog to Brian’s 4th of July party.It was hot. The dog was brought to my dad’s quieter place to keep him in air conditioning. I was talking to him. I reached out to give his head a rub. John quickly pulled me back as the dog’s hairs bristled. Later, this dog bit my brother Mike, as he was attaching a leash to walk him.
But the strangest encounter was on a walk in Athens West Virginia on a rural road.
I was walking with my older brother Bob on one side and my younger brother Brian on the other. Sandwiched between them, I felt secure. We avoided barking , growling dogs in front yards. Staying out of their territory.
Rounding a curve in the road, I noticed a small silent dog coming fast from our left side. He raced behind us. Choosing the smallest of our trio, he bit me on both calves before disappearing around the corner of a dilapidated ruins of a barn. There were no houses to ask about the animal. Why he chose to target me is a mystery. I learned that a quiet dog can be as dangerous as a barking one.
Now, I use my cane to ward off aggressive animals. Dogs and cats, you have been warned!

Barking Dogs

Barks and Growls, warn you away.
He does not want to play.
Tail wagging can be approached.
A quiet dog running, can danger pose.

Carolaspot@aol.

Thought the official start of Earth Day was in 1970, my childhood was filled with earth friendly practices, encouraged by my parents. I recall many paper drives. My brothers were paperboys. They would offer to collect undelivered newspapers and collect the read papers from neighbors on junk day. Papers were stacked on the top of the trash can for easy collection. Newsprint was bundled with twine to be taken to a collection site such a local church or organization.
We lived near the start of the Edward Hines Parkway, a 24 mile park along the RiveRouge. When we visited the park in early spring, we would take several bags to pick up litter thrown from passing cars, over the winter months. I would find interesting items on these hunts. Bungee cords, cardboard boxes, Christmas lights and recyclable bottles and cans were collected. I had an interesting collection of bottle caps from these hunts. Old gardening gloves were worn to retrive the trash.
In the corner of our backyard, my mother had a mulch pile Where we deposited buckets of weeds, snall twigs and later grass from mowing. My job was to trim the grass on the edge of the lawn. I would place the cuttings in a bucket. The bucket was dunped onto the mulch pile. Dad would turn the pile to help it turn into compost.
When we were asked to collect the fallen green apples from the yard, the interest in the chore increased when my brothers started a game tossing apples each other. The game suddenly stopped when I was hit by a hard apple, I started to cry. My mother made the three boys pick up every apple before lunch.
There is an old Dutch tradition of sweeping the streets clean in the spring to prepare for summer street events. Often glass, nails and wire would be be swept to prevent the items and dirt from ending up in the storm drains. One summer storm, the drains couldn’t take the rain away. Our street flooded. We went out into the street in our underwear. My brothers floated boats, watched them move in the current. I had no boat, so I splashed them with the flood water. Mom called a halt to the fun. When called inside, I was told to take a bath.
“But Mom, I am clean!”
Mom gave me the mother look, a hard stare with a straight across mouth. Lips pressed tightly together. To this day, this is known as the look. My brothers and, daughter, nieces and nephews know and use it well.
My best recycling effort was to take all of our old comic books and have a sale in front of the house. Given permission from Craig, I sold thin comics for 2 cents and the thicker ones for a nickel. Business was brisk, with favorite comics grabbed fast. At the end I had about a dozen comics. Some had lost their covers, a few were a comic called Treasure chest, a Catholic comic. Taking a page from my mother’s garage sale. I bundled the lot and sold it for fifty cents. The neighborhood bully bought the lot. Later, his father, Duke, tried to return the offensive comics and get his money back. My dad listened and explained that his som had the ability to look over the comics before the purchase.
” There are no refunds or returns”
I wonder what Billy did with those comics? I bet he didn’t recycle them.
So when the Official Earth Day was establish in U.S. in 1970 and World Earth Day in 1990, I was familiar with what we could do to help maintain our world. This year Earth Day is focus on the world vs plastics. It is hoped to reducing the production of plastics 60 % by 2040. Encouraging the use of organic plastics that break down naturally in land fills will be encouraged. Looking for plastics that are labeled as organic could be selected over other plastics.
Those plastic groceries bags are collected by many stores that use them . Taking your own paper or cloth bags to the store will help. Many of those plastic bags end up in our lakes and oceans to be swallowed by marine wildlife. Trying to be mindful each day with our choices we make may seem small but in the long run, they can make a big difference for our Mother Earth.
As an old earth Day ad stated,
“Give a hoot, Don’t pollute.”

Being Mindful

I see tossed cans in the road, I pick it up.
A neighbor dog uses my yard as a latrine, I scoop it up and bury in the flowers.
Trash blowing down the street can be collected and deposited in my trash can.
If neighbors need a hand, I offer one.
We are all on this earth together.

carolaspot@aol.com April 22, 2024