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| Fireman getting ready to load the trailer. |
Three cheers for my sister-in-law, Cindy Azuma Peckham! She drove their pickup with a trailer to Fort Worth from Tolar, maybe forty-five miles, much of it heavily trafficked. She was picking up the electric wheelchair, and the pickup caused a brief flurry of activity at the cottage. I have written about our indecision about how to load the heavy thing. Turns out John and Cindy have a neighbor who’s with the Fort Worth Fire Department, and he offered to come and bring three firemen to load it. They arrived in a fire truck, which may have caused a bit of a neighborhood stir, and it was done before I could blink. John’s neighbor, David, simply rode the chair through the patio and back yard, down the driveway, and across the street to where Cindy had parked the truck. The firemen tied it down securely in the trailer, and Cindy took off for home. And therein is my admiration—I was a good driver in my day, but a pickup with a trailer and a wheelchair would have intimidated me. My tribute to Cindy: “She may be small, but she is mighty.”
And three more cheers for
Morgan Helene Alter, who graduated today from Tomball Memorial High School. In
what I thought was a lovely innovation, the ceremony was live-streamed, so I
got a much better view of her walking across the stage than I would have if I’d
been in been in that crowded auditorium. She had a sweet, cute smile on her
face, even though the principal or whoever called her Morgan Helen when her
name is Morgan Helene. So proud of her. She will go to Texas Tech next year.
.
Morgan, inducted into National Honor Society
And another three cheers for
Jacob Burton who is as of yesterday a senior in high school. He and friends
celebrated by helping or officiating or something at a Powder Puff game and
then, just as I was about to serve supper, seven hungry boys landed in Jordan’s
living room. I told her and Christian they are blessed that Jacob has such good
friends and that he is comfortable bringing them home. Jordan scurried around
to find something to feed them. 
New seniors, on the last day of school.
Not so trivial: Amanda Gorman wrote yesterday
about the banning of her inaugural poem, “The Hill We Climb,” in Dade County
(Florida) elementary schools. I thought her words were eloquent: "I wrote 'The Hill We Climb' so that all young
people could see themselves in a historical moment. Ever since, I've received
countless letters and videos from children inspired by 'The Hill We Climb' to
write their own poems. Robbing children of the chance to find their voices in
literature is a violation of their right to free thought and free speech.”
Today I learned that the lone woman who complained about the poem is a
notorious bigot who has protested countless things before and—get this—she
hasn’t yet read the poem in its entirety. And then I read somewhere that the
national banning of books is due to eleven narrow-minded people. It’s not a
chorus objecting to certain titles—it’s eleven lousy people. And look at the
furor they’ve caused, the damage they’ve done. Why is this country letting a
few extreme voices control our daily lives, from books to abortion to guns?
Speaking of book banning it
amused me yesterday that Goodreads’ list of books on sale at Amazon included Lady
Chatterley’s Lover, by D. H. Lawrence. I’m old enough that my first memory
of censorship has to do with that book when it was published in the US and the
UK, years after Lawrence wrote it. I haven’t one back to read it, but I wonder
if it wouldn’t seem tame today. If you want to check it out, go to Amazon. Don’t
tell DeSantis.
Trivial to everyone but me: the
other morning, with coffee-hour company, I watched out the French doors while a
squirrel had the time of his life at our new bird feeder. I know, they are
God’s creatures too and have to eat, but do they have to eat when we put out
for the birds? Today, I was much happier when I saw Mama Cardinal at the
feeder. We have a cardinal couple who have come to our back yard for several
years now.
Special days: Yesterday was
National Wine Day. Jordan and I did our best to honor it appropriately. I
thought today was the day to wear orange to protest gun violence and dutifully
put on my one, raggedy, stained orange shirt—turns out it’s next week.
Tonight, Jorda is at a concert if
Dallas with a busload of neighbors. Of course she is—John Mayer is performing.
Christian, having no interest in John Mayer, is probably still at Colonial, and
Jacob is who knows where. Once again, I followed a recipe for something I know perfectly
well how to make from scratch—salmon patties. The recipe was from Southern
Living, which I think is reliable. They were tasty but once again fell
apart when I tried to turn them. Followed a new, quick salad dressing
suggestions—a bit tart, even for me. Now to do my Central Market order and then
settle down with a mystery.
As you grill your hot dogs and
eat your potato salad this weekend, pause for a moment to remember those who served
our country and never made it home again. God bless.
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