HAPPINESS EVER AFTER.

This is jokingly called a coonass microwave. Inside is a hog being roasted for a wedding shower at the VFW Post 9822  where we stayed at Duson for a week.  They rent out their hall for receptions, weddings and other special events. I spotted it  mid-morning before going out for the Jam on Saturday.

Folks at the post invited us to attend a wedding shower, but we  returned to the motor home figuring a wedding shower is a personal event and I was about to fix dinner when Richard, on the right,  came knocking at our door and insisted we should join the festivities. It was late and most of the afternoon guests had left by then, so we walked over and joined them.
Here then is the groom and bride to be.  The young people were having fun.

I asked one of the bridesmaids-to-be if this was a tradition.  “Well, yeah”, she said as she smiled and crossed her eyes.

Happiness was evident everywhere.

A frame is set up and a table with costumes is available for everyone to play with.

Mother of the groom was up and tapping her feet,  and half dancing while visiting with family members.

After we ate a marvelous meal with asparagus, dirty rice, green salad with pecans, scalloped potatoes, the roasted pork and more, the pans were just about empty.

Beautiful cakes for dessert with fresh flowers. It resembled a wedding, rather than a shower. A long table spread with gifts and all the elements of a wedding except for the preacher. Wow!

I didn’t get any names, well, I got them all but don’t remember. The guy on the right is from California and he enjoyed talking to someone who knew California. His dad was in the Contra Costa Co. Sheriff’s department so we had a lot in common. He loves Louisiana, but misses his old stomping grounds. Camping at Big Trees, skiing at Kirkwood, and Bear Valley, fishing at New Mellones.

Richard is the grandfather of the bride-to-be.

It was a lot of fun and just another feature of the friendliness of people in Louisiana. (Me, dancing with the commander.) All about us was the message “HAPPILY EVER AFTER.”  To every bride and groom I impart the same wish:  “May you have as much happiness in your marriage as I did in mine.”

As I leave the Motor Home of Fun, I can only say, “I wonder what’s around the bend?”

TRUE STORY.

My friend Anne Williams who is 87 years, told me about her two aunts who decided to raise their own turkey for Thanksgiving. The well fed turkey got good and fat. On the day before, they were sorry, but committed. So, one held the bird, the other bashed it in the head with a hammer. They set to plucking it and the turkey suddenly tried to scramble away from them. Oh, what a revolting development!

They ended up eating chicken and let the turkey live. It was cold outside, even in California. So, they knitted it a sweater. Then the feathers began to grow through the sweater and presented a new problem. It was pretty laughable. They eventually had to cut the sweater off in pieces, only the turkey didn’t want to go near them. They had a tough time catching  that educated bird.

I’m thankful my bird comes shrink wrapped from the store, among other things too numerous to mention.

My cup runneth over!  Share!  Be happy. Be thankful.

HAPPY NEW YEAR FROM FAR AND NEAR

As a kid, growing up in rural Michigan, I never thought I'd become a world traveler. It still boggles my mind.
And looking back at this wonderful year of traveling across the United States and back, the wonderful experiences I've had, the amazing places and things I've seen, I'm in awe of my great good fortune to have met a ramblin' man who seeks to be an adventurer and pulled out of the ruts of life to follow his dreams.

I mentioned being a world traveler as well. Before I retired, I was interested in the world, other cultures, other peoples, other customs. It was my good fortune to become acquainted with the Republic of Indonesia via an exchange student who became an integral part of my life and introduced me to a whole new world of experiences. And, today I received greetings from Linda Djamaludin, one of the nicest, most interesting women I've ever met.

This is Linda, third from left, in costume, with some of her friends.
Below is Linda experiencing snow for the first time, at Bear Valley, something rather rare in Indonesia. (Photo from 1986).
Linda, who is muslim, also sent me the words to a song, Stand Up For Love.  There are words worth repeating:
     There are times I find it hard to sleep at night,
     We are living through such troubling times.
     And every child that reaches out for someone to hold,
     For one moment they become my own.
     If we all stand together this one time
     Then no one will get left behind.
     Stand up for life
     Stand up for love. 

If we could see the world as a world full of people who all want basically the same thing. Love, friendship, family, good health and the ability to have free choices, what a peaceable world this would be. Which is, by the way, my wish for the New Year. A WORLD FULL OF PEACE AND LOVE.       

CLARK CLEMENT MOORE AND MAJOR HENRY LIVINGSTON JR.

   Yesterday, when I spoke of the Christmas card with the poem, "T'was The Night Before Christmas", I deliberately didn't put the author of that poem as Clark Clement Moore, even though I'm ancestrally related to him. He was a sour, difficult,  and mean spirited man and there is evidence to suggest he was not the author. His peer, Major Henry Livingston Jr., related to Moore's wife, is more likely the author. I read a comprehensive article some years back  about the investigation into the true author of the poem and came away convinced it was Livingston's name that belongs next to this poem. Just for the heck of it, I looked it up on Wikipedia and I was amazed to see Wikipedia has a briefer version of the debate. You may look it up if you'd like at this link:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/A_Visit_from_St._Nicholas

The poem has had major influence over the magical games we play at Christmas with our young children. It has, in essence, given definition to the gift giving, charitable figure that left presents for children in their socks or shoes over the centuries in many cultures. The actual title of the poem is "A Visit From St. Nicholas."  St. Nicolas was a real person with a history of his own that represents the charitable side of man's nature, mostly lacking during centuries of hungrier times.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Saint_Nicholas
 There are cards that depict St. Nicholas, with his flowing beard, walking with a staff, with his pockets overflowing with presents. I couldn't find the one I had in mind. But with that poem we metamorphosed St. Nicholas into the jolly red suited fat man we know as Santa Claus. And, even he has changed over the years.

From an old fashioned guy like this one...

To a slimmer, hardworking guy like this one. Its all fun.,
Wikipedia, by the way, is a free service. A very valuable one in my opinion. They are stressed for operating cash and are looking for donations. If you can send them a fiver once a year,  we can hope they will always remain free. There isn't very much that is truly free these days.
Cheers!