So many things happen. Life is made up of events and happenings; there are happy times and rough times. The difficult moments that test your patience to the max leave you wondering how you could ever forget them in the world. Time elapses, those stark negatives and intense trials have a way of melting back, and you cling to the positive memories. It’s like my mom says, “Memories tend to be viewed as better or worse than the actual event.” Whether we choose to view it from a positive or negative standpoint, life keeps moving on.
July has come to its final week. Summer’s first full month will soon slip quietly away, like the last grains of sand trickling from an hourglass.
We’re already a week deep into August—coasting steadily downhill on summer’s slope. In just over six weeks autumn will officially debut.
July is already a week-and-a-half old!
Harlan County, Kentucky, has a World War II hero who recently passed. I knew Alfred “Al” Cornett (August 1923-July 2021) because I interviewed him about his war experiences, and I have several of the dulcimers he made hanging on the wall in my living room.
“Grunts” was a common expression used during the Vietnam War as a label for the U.S. military men who were lowest in the hierarchy of those who served. I decided to write about one of these men, Gary Unger, who did not die in that war and who did not receive two Purple Hearts for being grievously wounded there.
Just when we think there will be respite from the challenges we have faced for the past year and one-half, the virus and its variants rush back into our lives, and all promises of normalcy are once again put in abeyance.
Two-hundred and forty-five years have passed since 56 men committed treason and signed the Declaration of Independence. Since the signing of the Declaration, the history of the United States has been characterized by the trials of liberty and the struggle to live up to the high ideals of Spirit of ’76.
Remember last summer and fall when everyone was locked up in their homes and not taking trips? How cabin fever pretty much gripped the entire nation? How everyone couldn’t wait to be on the road again?
I used to wonder how a person could ever go to work in the garden to unwind. Pulling weeds just wasn’t on my list of things I particularly enjoyed. I don’t know what happened, but I repeatedly found myself ambling toward the garden during the past week after supper and breathing deeply. I felt my entire being relaxing as weeds were being removed and tomatoes staked.