Memorial Day 2009

It came and went quietly here. We remembered why we observe this holiday, and are grateful for all who have given the "last full measure" of devotion, and those who have served and returned.

Memorial Day always conjures up memories of family cookouts in Grandma & Pa Redd's back yard on Victoria Place in Toledo. There was never a Memorial Day, July 4th, or any other national holiday that Grandma, and also Aunty Mary, didn't have their flags proudly hanging from their front porches. Why didn't we take more pictures of those special times with our family? The pictures (in my mind) will go with me when I go -- I will have to create mind pictures for my grandchildren to carry with them when I am gone.

The other memory that Memorial Day (or Decoration Day as it was called) brings to mind was Grandma and Aunty Mary making the rounds of the cemeteries in the Toledo area where family members and friends are laid to rest. Grandma was a house mother to a fraternity at the University of Toledo, and she not only saw many, many young men go off to war, but she corresponded with them regularly. Many didn't return; those who did visited her until her death at the age of 88. They never forgot, either.

Cemetery visiting is becoming a thing of the past. I don't think the younger generation will maintain this tradition very well. Part of the reason, in my family at least, is that I haven't taken my daughter with me when I have gone. My mother and father never took me, either, but I have been to the cemeteries with Grandma and Aunty Mary several times. Pleasant memories. Comforting.

This year Bob and I stayed home. We had friends join us for an informal backyard cookout. Low key. Pleasant. I heard or read many times this year that Memorial Day is not about cookouts. We had one anyway, and I don't think it was disrespectful. I remembered. And do, many, many more days throughout the year. And that is what this holiday is about.

The Project

A week ago we ordered six cubic yards of dirt, something we've needed but have been putting off for a few years. When we stretched our garden this year, we couldn't put it off any longer. When the man from Mountain Topsoil delivered it last Thursday , I told him, "I've never thought about dirt being pretty, but this is some doggone good looking dirt!" It was sifted and enriched with peat, smooth and dark.

Bob is definitely stronger and more focused than I am. I helped -- hauled many loads to the back yard, but I'm sure that for each wheelbarrowful of dirt I moved, Bob moved fifteen.



The first order of business was to fill the added garden space with good dirt. Once that was accomplished, the areas around the deck screamed for their share. Bob moved some plants and extended some sprinklers.





We had help. A supervisor. Named Daisy. She refused to lift a paw in the manual labor


...but she watched to make sure no one else slacked.




Not only did she supervise, she inspected...





...from every angle.



Occasionally, she followed Bob to the dirt pile out front and then back to the worksite. A good supervisor oversees all of the work. (Besides, she's a nosy cat.)



Notice the shape of the garden. Hint: we live in Utah.



Here's the deck area, after dirt, before flowers.


Good thing Daisy didn't see this. She'd have been on him in no time. Literally.




This project took several days. On Monday, we hired some help.





He worked cheap, and made himself at home.





And we had new supervisors, too.



The dirt pile in the street in front of the house is gone, and Bob is glad. The Advil helped to ease his pain, and mine. I've planted impatiens around the deck, and alyssum and petunias in the back along the fence. When they will show up without zooming, I'll post pictures.

I said to Bob, now we need some mulch. I won't tell you what he said.

"Let us" see...

how the lettuce is coming. It looks like lettuce to me.

The Latest Dirt

It's 11:15 P.M. and past my latest self-imposed bedtime. But I couldn't go to bed without sharing the latest dirt.

Ok, it's not just dirt. If you look reeeeeeally closely, you might be able to see a few very tiny seedlings in the middle of the picture above. You might need to zoom in on the picture. And be sure you have your glasses on (if you wear them). I'm so proud of these little guys -- they've come up several days ahead of schedule.

That's my dinner in late June. Or at least part of it. Lettuce. We've also put a few tomato plants in, several head lettuce plants, a cucumber,a broccoli plant and a brussel sprouts plant -- there are only two of us, and whatever comes from those two plants I'm sure will be plenty. Not yet in dirt are the zucchini plant(s), another cucumber, two Roma tomatoes, and lots of green bean seeds.

Which reminds me. There may be frost tonight (forecast says 39 degrees), so I've gotta run out and cover up my babies.

Little American

When Carter was here a few days ago, he found an American flag that I had bought a few weeks ago to use at the Tea Parties I attended.

He asked, "What's the name of this flag, Grandma?"

I was puzzled. "What do you mean?"

"What's its name?" he asked again.

I still didn't understand what he wanted to know "Well, it's an American flag."

"But what's its name?"

"United States? Is that what you mean?"

Haltingly he began in a hushed tone, "...of America ... Republic.. which it stands...." He was shyly looking down at the floor, flag in hand.

"What did you say?" I couldn't have heard that right. It sounded like...

"...Nation... under God...." he said quietly.

Almost apologetically, with a hint of a smile on his face, he finished, "...inavisible...liberty...justice for all."

My four year old grandson had just said the Pledge of Allegiance in the most reverent spirit I have ever heard it recited.