Wow! It's past time for a new post.
I took a quiz on Facebook to see how Southern I am. Turns out I'm so Southern I'm related to myself.
On Tuesdays and Thursdays I take along one or two CDs to entertain me on my drive to Moultrie. Yesterday's musical selection was Bruce Springsteen's We Shall Overcome; The Seeger Sessions. Bruce Springsteen is one of those singers who does not have the most mellifluous voice ever heard, kind of like Bob Dylan and Kris Kristofferson, but he does stay in tune and on key. I love the musical accompaniment on the CD. It may be a little more rockin’ than Pete Seeger’s original recordings, but it’s still fun.
We went to a family dinner at my SIL's house in Senoia to celebrate Mother's Day this past Sunday. We also celebrated a couple of birthdays. I didn't take any food pictures, but we had barbecued chicken, corn on the cob, green beans, fruit, bread, and (yuck) collard greens. Can you imagine a whole table full of in-laws giving you a hard time because you don't like collards? But they have nothing to complain about: if I don't eat the greens, then they have more for themselves. Oh, yes, we had chocolate cake and vanilla ice cream. We also had hors d'ouevres (sp?). My sister-in-law and I were pronouncing it "aw derves." We like being Southern.
I took some flower pictures, which I will show you; and I took a picture of Richard and his father that I like a lot, which I will also show you.
Louisiana Iris. If you do a Google Images search on "louisiana iris" you'll come up with a variety of pictures. Looks like there's more than one kind of Louisiana Iris.
Heirloom Iris. The older gentleman who gave this to my in-laws said this came from his great-grandmother's garden. Is that not a beautiful color of Iris?
Richard and my Daddy-in-law, looking out the living-room windows.
I finished reading Roseanna, by Maj Sjowall and Per Wahloo. I'm glad I'm not prone to having nightmares about the stuff I'm reading. This killer was one scary individual. It took the police a long time to A) figure out whodunit, and B) catch the bastard; it was touch-and-go for a while there near the end. Martin Beck, our main character, seemed buoyed by the outcome of the investigation. Remember I told you he was depressed? Job satisfaction can give you a better outlook on things. Now I have to put the next book in the series on my wish list.
My current read is On Call In Hell; A Doctor's Iraq War Story, by Cdr. Richard Jadick. It's (obviously) a memoir. I'm about halfway through. The first three chapters were about the Battle of Fallujah and Jadick's first trip to the front lines (accompanying the Marine fighters) to retrieve the casualties. He has this perfectly reasonable notion that the sooner you can get to the wounded, the more lives you can save. (He won a Bronze Star for his efforts.) The description of the fighting was pretty harrowing, but I found myself readily turning the pages to see what happened next. It's not all about the fighting; that would be too much for a civilian like me to get my mind around. He talks about his other life as well. Jadick also tells about his "down time." One description that will be burned into my brain for a long time is his explanation of the bathroom habits of a group of Iraqi soldiers (and these are the good guys). It. Was. Gross. I've convinced myself that not all Iraqis are like that; that it must have been because they were away from female influence. I'm not going to repeat any of that description. If you want to know, read the book. It is well written. I don't know what attracted me to the book. One of the students of Small Public Institution borrowed it from the library, and it caught my eye, so when the student was done with it, I checked it out. I'm glad I did; I'm learning something.
Dashiell (a.k.a. Bubba) looking handsome.
Bennis having her morning milk.
Y'all have a nice weekend, y'hear?