by

Our Daily Thread 6-23-15

Good Morning!

My neighbor got a surprise when she went out to water her hanging plants. 2 birds flew out. Now she’s afraid to water them. 🙂

6-22-15 0076-22-15 005

______________________________________________

On this day in 1836 Congress approved the Deposit Act, which contained a provision for turning over surplus federal revenue to the states. Surplus? Not lately……. 😦

In 1865 Confederate General Stand Watie, who was also a Cherokee chief, surrendered the last sizable Confederate army at Fort Towson, in the Oklahoma Territory.

In 1926 the first lip-reading tournament in America was held in Philadelphia, PA.

And in 1972 President Nixon and White House chief of staff H.R. Haldeman discussed a plan to use the CIA to obstruct the FBI’s Watergate investigation.

______________________________________________

Quote of the Day

“Every dog has his day, unless he loses his tail, then he has a weak-end.” 🙂

June Carter Cash 

______________________________________________

As you may have guessed, today is her birthday.

And one more, with Johnny, from their farewell tour in “99. 

______________________________________________

Anyone have a QoD?

43 thoughts on “Our Daily Thread 6-23-15”

  2. I’ve had little sleep. Lately I have been having a bowl of shredded wheat with warmed soy milk before bed and I sleep soundly. I didn’t have it last night so my body felt out of sync. Of course, I don’t mind the quiet time from
    3 to 6 a.m. but later I will feel sleepy when I want to be lively.

    I got a few more things cleared out of the house yesterday. Always more, more, more. That is what happens when people never move. There is just a grand accumulation of “stuff.”

    Like

    Reply

  4. I forgot to say good morning, maybe because it seems like it should be afternoon!

    The yard needs mowing, but it feels too hot to do it. Too bad Miss Bosley can’t earn her keep by pushing the lawn mower. They need to make a cat size mower with a bird or mouse hanging out in front like the carrot dangling in front of a horse.

    Like

    Reply

  7. You have it right. It’s “Howdoyoudo?”
    Strange, I wrote my comment above. Pressed ” Post Comment”. It came up “posting comment”, but nothing showed up, except it kept saying “Ppsting comment”. Si I waited. I went out for the paper and came back and added to my comment. Nothing happened. So I backed out and came back. My original comment is there, but the additions are not.

    Like

    Reply

  8. Now my addition:
    After June’s song, there is the option to see “The Life & Times of Connie Smith”. In view of our comments yesterday, I would like to see that.
    But it’s 43 minutes long.

    Like

    Reply

  10. Because some birds stay up late at night and make noise.
    And they borrow yourseed and worms.
    And they want you to sit on their nest while they go gallivanting about.
    No end of the nuisance.

    Liked by 2 people

    Reply

  11. Guten tag. (I thought I would try some German.) We had some windy weather last night. Awesome clouds and lightning. A tornado about 15 miles form here caused the sirens to go off, but no damage.

    Liked by 1 person

    Reply

  13. I have posted this before and today seems like a good time to re-post it. June Carter had a couple of failed marriages behind her when she married Johnny Cash. When they married she made the decision to put her marriage before her career and it wouldn’t be his children and her children. It would be their children. This is the eulogy Roseanne Cash delivered at her (step) Mother’s funeral. If we could only be somewhat like this.

    Roseanne Cash’s eulogy for June Carter Cash

    Rosanne Cash’s Eulogy for June
    Many years ago, I was sitting with June in the living room at home and the phone rang. She picked it up and started talking to someone, and after several minutes I wandered off to another room, as it seemed she was deep in conversation. I came back 10 or 15 minutes later and she was still completely engrossed. I was sitting in the kitchen when she finally hung up, a good 20 minutes later. She had a big smile on her face, and she said, “I just had the NICEST conversation,” and she started telling me about this other woman’s life, her children, that she had just lost her father, where she lived, and on and on… I said, “Well, June, who was it?” and she said, “Why, honey, it was a wrong number.”

    That was June. In her eyes, there were two kinds of people in the world: those she knew and loved, and those she didn’t know and loved. She looked for the best in everyone; it was a way of life for her. If you pointed out that a particular person was perhaps not totally deserving of her love, and might in fact be somewhat of a lout, she would say, “Well, honey, we just have to lift him up.” She was forever lifting people up. It took me a long time to understand that what she did when she lifted you up was to mirror the very best parts of you back to yourself. She was like a spiritual detective: she saw into all your dark corners and deep recesses, saw your potential and your possible future, and the gifts you didn’t even know you possessed, and she ‘lifted them up’ for you to see. She did it for all of us, daily, continuously.

    But her great mission and passion were lifting up my dad. If being a wife were a corporation, June would have been the CEO. It was her most treasured role. She began every day by saying, “What can I do for YOU, John?” Her love filled up every room he was in, lightened every path he walked, and her devotion created a sacred, exhilarating place for them to live out their married life. My daddy has lost his dearest companion, his musical counterpart, his soul mate and best friend.

    The relationship between stepmother and children is by definition complicated, but June eliminated the confusion by banning the words ‘step-child’ and ‘step-mother’ from her vocabulary, and from ours. When she married my father in 1968, she brought with her two daughters, Carlene and Rosie. My dad brought with him four daughters: Kathy, Cindy, Tara and me. Together they had a son, John Carter. But she always said, “I have seven children.” She was unequivocal about it. I know, in the real-time of the heart, that that is a difficult trick to pull off, but she was unwavering. She held it as an ideal, and it was a matter of great honor to her.

    When I was a young girl at a difficult time, confused and depressed, with no idea of how my life could unfold, she held a picture for me of my adult self; a vision of joy and power and elegance that I could grow into. She did not give birth to me, but she helped me give birth to my future. Recently, a friend was talking to her about the historical significance of the Carter Family, and her remarkable place in the lexicon of American music. He asked her what she thought her legacy would be. She said softly, “Oh, I was just a mother.”

    She treasured her friends and fawned over them. She made a great, silly girlfriend who would advise you about men and take you shopping and do comparison tastings of cheesecake. She made a lovely surrogate mother to all the sundry musicians who came to her with their craziness and heartaches. She called them her babies. She loved family and home fiercely. She inspired decades of unwavering loyalty in Peggy and her staff. She never sulked, was never rude, and went out of her way to make you feel at home. She had tremendous dignity and grace. I never heard her use coarse language, or even raise her voice. She treated the cashier at the supermarket with the same friendly respect that she treated the President of the United States.

    I have many, many cherished images of her. I can see her cooing to her beloved hummingbirds on the terrace at Cinnamon Hill in Jamaica, and those hummingbirds would come, unbelievably, and hang suspended a few inches in front of her face to listen to her sing to them. I can see her laying flat on her back on the floor and laughing as she let her little granddaughters brush her hair out all around her head. I can see her come into the room with her hands held out, a ring on every finger, and say to the girls, “Pick one!” I can see her dancing with her leg out sideways and her fist thrust forward, or cradling her autoharp, or working in her gardens. But the memory I hold most dear is of her, two summers ago on her birthday in Virginia. Dad had orchestrated a reunion and called it ‘Grandchildren’s Week.’ The whole week was in honor of June. Every day the grandchildren read tributes to her, and we played songs for her and did crazy things to amuse her. One day, she sent all of us children and grandchildren out on canoes with her Virginia relations steering us down the Holston River. It was a gorgeous, magical day. Some of the more urban members of the family had never even been in a canoe. We drifted for a couple of hours and as we rounded the last bend in the river to the place where we would dock, there was June, standing on the shore in the little clearing between the trees. She had gone ahead in a car to surprise us and welcome us at the end of the journey. She was wearing one of her big flowered hats and long white skirt, and she was waving her scarf and calling, ‘Helloooo!’ I have never seen her so happy.

    So, today, from a bereft husband, seven grieving children, sixteen grandchildren and three great-grandchildren, we wave to her from THIS shore, as she drifts out of our lives. What a legacy she leaves, what a mother she was. I know she has gone ahead of us to the far side bank. I have faith that when we all round the last bend in the river, she will be standing there on the shore in her big flowered hat and long white skirt, under a June-blue sky, waving her scarf to greet us.

    Liked by 6 people

    Reply

  18. I’m sleeping very well lately, it’s hard to wake myself up.

    Off to tour a merchant marine vessel today — it’s been a work in progress to refurbish it as a floating museum. Built in 1945 right here in the port of LA, saw the most duty during the cold war years, at one point evacuating 7,000 refugees from Korea during that war.

    We’re cooling down again, supposed to be in the low 70s at the beaches (but still 90s inland).

    Like

    Reply

  23. Mumsee,

    Meh, about the same…

    Peter,

    She asked how you’re doing.

    And it’s obvious you understand some German, at least what it looks like. 🙂

    Mumsee,

    Missouri I think….

    Peter,

    I don’t, but I do enjoy eating it, and I can pronounce some menu items rather fluently. Maybe Mumsee might know some.
    ,

    Like

    Reply

  26. The boys should get back today. Unless they are taking the scenic route. I think they told their bosses they would not be back until Thursday. I imagine they are having a good time. the rest of us are.

    Like

    Reply

  28. BTW- We’re hoping some charismatics can interpret these lines for Chas. At least AJ is doing his best. (Google translate helps.)

    Like

    Reply

  29. I’ve retained only a little of the Spanish I learned throughout college. But one day, thinking how smart I was, I was out on a story about a dental clinic that served low-income kids. The girl I was interviewing only spoke Spanish so, proud of my bilingual capabilities, such as they were, I asked her a question in Spanish.

    Of course I understood next to nothing of her reply, suddenly realizing I wasn’t so smart after all.

    Bueno.

    Like

    Reply

  31. But people do enjoy hearing your efforts in their language. Makes them much more willing to work toward understanding and being understood. Understandable.

    Like

    Reply

  33. What I’ve been saying. Go local (newspapers)

    http://www.getreligion.org/getreligion/2015/6/23/excellent-advice-on-charlestonshooting-coverage-switch-off-cable-and-go-local
    _______________________________________________________________________

    ” …. Mother Jones suggests that Charleston’s hometown newspaper is ‘putting awful cable news to shame.’ … I can’t vouch for that because I don’t, as a rule, turn on Fox News, MSNBC or CNN. I know you’re jealous of me. (I do enjoy the excellent reporting and writing of CNN Religion Editor Daniel Burke, as I’ve mentioned before.) …. ”

    (Speaking of one Post & Courier story recounting the events of the night of the shooting): “The double byline on that story belongs to Doug Pardue and Jennifer Berry Hawes, both projects reporters for The Post and Courier.

    “Hawes is no stranger to religion writing. She’s a member of the Religion Newswriters Association and a former winner of the RNA’s Cornell Reporter of the Year Award, which honors the best religion writing at the nation’s mid-sized newspapers. She’s a contest finalist again this year.

    “Hawes has been all over the shooting story, including reporting on the conflicting emotions as Emanuel AME members weighed returning — or not — to their home church Sunday …”
    ________________________________________________________________________

    So the next time a big news event breaks and you’re looking for hard news as well as “boots on the ground” local context, search out the area’s newspaper online. 🙂

    Like

    Reply

  34. Well, in my high school French class we sang L’amore Bleu or something like
    Love is Blah. Teacher wanted to discourage puppy love. So then the class went downtown for a romantic French dinner where they served Snails. That about did the love thing for me.

    Like

    Reply

  35. I do not speak French. French is a very lazy language. I know, Phos, we drop letters also, but not at every word. I do not go to France if I can help it. I do not shop in French stores. Merci. My grandfather was French so I can be anti French if I want because it is in my blood. I do eat French’s mustard.

    Like

    Reply

  39. La francaise et une belle langue. J’aime la lecture en francais.

    Pero, yo no tengo practico el espanol, y yo no se hacer el signo por ‘n’.

    Degga naa Olof tutti rekk.

    Like

    Reply

Leave a comment