TO TELL THE TRUTH

                                                                             

        Last week I had jury duty. It was a very long and  intense week. It was much more physical than I am used to anymore. I know I need to walk more than I do now. My fitbit doesn't often hit those numbers. I had to be out of the house earlier than I usually wake up.

Sometimes I think our system makes this as difficult as possible. In the three days before I was supposed to find out if my number was in the chosen group I got six text messages. One told me that I had been picked and needed to report in February. (This is April). Another said that was a mistake. The rest alternated between saying I had been chosen to report and that I may be expected to report. All said to be sure and call the night before. So I went ahead and cancelled appointments that had been scheduled weeks ago-just in case.

This was my third time. The first time I was only there for a couple of days while we decided who would pay for the hood ornament of a car for a minor accident. It was exciting because I was a stay-at-home mom to several little ones and I got to go have lunch with grown-ups! The second time my number was high and all I had to do was call.

This time was the real thing. We spent all of Monday listening to them pick the jury. The lawyers asked all sorts of questions. I didn't think I would get picked, because they didn't ask me very many. Often I think I have a tendency to be invisible in groups. We were cautioned against showing any sympathy or empathy or using our intuition. That's really very difficult. I live by my intuition!

Several were eliminated because they said they couldn't be unbiased. One man said he believed in "an eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth". He went home right away. Another said he couldn't listen and pay attention all day, and that he would need naps. That got him off too. 

A lot of jury duty involves sitting around and long waits. One day we had a surprise three hour lunch break. That was the day I bought cheese and crackers at the Dollar Store because I couldn't find a place to eat. Most of them brought their lunches or didn't mind walking several blocks. I think I was  the oldest juror. I was happy to take the elevator while most of them cheerfully took the stairs to the third floor. The Courthouse is beautiful and has wonderful and magnificent stairways. Ever since my unfortunate encounter with an acorn just a few days before my trip to Italy, stairs have been difficult for me. Especially so many of them eight times a day! 

It was a very emotional case and I am sure it will stay with me. Did we make the right decision? I hope so. It was hard listening to the evidence and knowing that life can change forever in a split second. And that what we decided will affect some person's life forever. I will be very grateful if this is my last time as a juror.

What I'm reading: I have always been fascinated by early Rome and Pompeii. Lately I have just finished a trilogy called Wolf Den by Elodie Harper. It is about the Roman caste system and slavery and the eruption of Mount Vesuvius. Since I have been there, it was especially interesting to me. The language is sometimes crude, but the scenes are not explicit.

BIRTHDAY MEMORIES

Today I am reprinting a column from 2022. It's my dad's birthday and now he would be 101 if he hadn't left us at the age of 66.

Today would have been my dad's 95th birthday. He has been gone since 1993, but lives on for those of us who knew him. He was a great father, but not a typical one. He was a man who lived by his own rules, and I think he expected the same of his children. Most of the time when I think of him, either cars or trucks come into the picture. He dropped out of school and worked as a truck driver around the country. He loved racing, and I think he was happiest when he was at a track. I went to my first stock car race when I was two weeks old. I was in a basket in the stands. I'm sure that Mom insisted we go, because the week before, he had brought us home from the hospital, bought her a pint of ice cream, and then he went to the races. Oh, and it was her birthday. He was a great dad, but I'm not really sure how he rated as a husband.

My parents moved to Texas twice in my first two years. I spent a lot of time with an aunt and uncle of my mother's because they both worked miles away. It's strange for me to think of my formative years being with family I don't ever remember meeting. Mom hated Texas. Dad loved it. 

Finally, she talked him into moving back to Iowa, and they bought a house when I was three. She needed stability while he thrived on adventure. When I was about four he was in a serious accident. During a race, he flipped his car six times. I was at the concession stand, buying cotton candy, and when I came back they were on the way to the hospital. She made him promise to quit driving. I think he could have just as easily promised to quit breathing. He kept it up, just using another name.

He used to have a truck route for a Des Moines dairy, and took me around to collect the milk cans from Iowa farms. During our long drives together, we would play "count the windmills," and "name the license plates."  I learned all about Dizzy Dean, his favorite baseball player. Dizzy didn't like to follow the rules either. We listened to country music, and Mario Lanzo.  He wasn't a religious man, but loved to listen to old time hymns.

He had a very strong sense of justice. Once, I took a pack of gum from a store. Probaby Juicy Fruit. When I showed him my treasure, he turned the car around immediatly, and marched me back into the store to confess. That ended my life of crime.  He was very big on sharing what you have with others, and passed that on to us. He liked to tell us about airplanes that he and his brother got for Christmas one year. A neighbor child hadn't gotten any Christmas toys. His mother made him give his away, and share his brother's plane. He wasn't happy about it, but knew it was the right thing to do. Dad always had a story with a lesson. I think they were true. At least most of them.

I was an only child for five years. By the time I was fifteen, I was older sister and babysitter to four siblings. He wasn't conventional. He was never like any of the other fathers I knew. We were the only family I knew with a giant milk dispenser in our kitchen, and regulation school playground equipment in our back yeard. The things he brought home for us to play on were considered too dangerous for our friends. For many years he sold cars and trucks, and once I learned to drive, I never knew what I would be driving to school. My most embarrassing was the car with "Joey Chitwood, Stunt Driver" painted on the side. There are so many stories, now that I am remembering. When he was Race Promoter, he managed to get the governor to be the flag man at one of the races. For my dad, nothing was ever impossible. Happy Birthday, Lefty. I miss you

                 

 

TRADITIONS

Our country has often been compared to a melting pot. It's filled with many cultures, customs, and traditions.  A lot of our citizens have kept the traditions alive from their native histories. Especially now, with genealogical information readily available, it is easy to celebrate our histories. We can add or eliminate what we want. 

Even though I can trace my family tree through many generations, my own family never thought of themselves as belonging to a specific background. So as I grew, I was often one to pick and choose. I don't really remember a lot of specific traditions, except for an Easter lamb cake that a favorite aunt would make and bring to our house. It wasn't religious. My religion was always whatever the neighbors were. I think they may have thought it was an obligation to see that I got to church. It must have worked. By the time I was an adult, I had been baptized three times. While I chose the one I thought I wanted to stick with, I've always been referred to as a "convert"

I think it's wonderful how families have specific foods and food traditions for the holidays, but ours was always pretty generic.

I married into an Irish family and have always loved the history and traditions. As I raised my family we took a lot of the music, literature, food, and customs as our own.

My own bloodline is primarily English, with a little bit of French, German, Swiss, Irish, and Scandinavian. I always wanted to be something exotic, but I guess the English bit says a lot about who I am. Anyone for tea?

Lately I have been reading about the Swedish system "Lagom". Some books say that Lagom is the most Swedish word there is. It means "not too little, but not too much". It is also living in harmony, with a steady balance and moderation in all things. It may be a little like Marie Kondo's "spark joy", but it isn't all about simplifying and living with the minimal. It's more about choosing what you need.

I was recently having lunch with a friend and I noticed that she never completely finished her food. Since I've always been a member of The Clean Plate Club, I asked her why she always left part of her meal. She told me she was taught that you should always leave something to show that you had eaten enough, and that plenty of food was served to satisfy you. I had never heard that before, but I thought that must be an example of Lagom. Oh, and she is Swedish.

So once again, I think I am becoming a convert.

I'd love to hear about any family traditions that you have. 

Reading: I am still reading books my Lindsey Davis. I just finished "Pandora's Boy".

APRIL DAYS

 

I spend more hours than I should just wondering where the time goes. I started this post on the last day of March, and here it is the second day of April. How did that happen? It seems like 2026 just started and now we have sailed through the first quarter.

Yesterday was April Fool's Day. I didn't write on Wednesday, so that must be my contribution to the silly jokes, and general tomfoolery. It is a holiday that I don't usually bother with very much. If I can't decorate for it, I guess I don't give it much thought. And more and more, I am confused whenever I listen to the news, whether something is true or not. When I see something on social media, I always need to ask for confirmation. It reminds me of the times many, many years ago when my first husband needed to listen to the radio all night in order to stay asleep. We always listened to the English BBC channel, and I would hear startling or upsetting news and think that I dreamed it. I was probably one of the first people in the States to hear about Princess Diana's death. It was the middle of the night here when I heard the news and I was sure it was a bad dream. There were also many stories about war and conflicts all over the world that we didn't really hear much about on the local news. It's a wonder I could sleep at all.

Something else that I just learned about the BBC (British Broadcasting Corporation) is that on April 18, 1930, they announced that "There is no news" and just played piano music for the duration of the broadcast! That decision was made because there was nothing of significance that the public needed to hear that day. Can you imagine? And it wasn't even April 1st! Today we have more news than we can handle.

April comes from a Latin word meaning "to open" because it is the time when buds begin to unfurl and flowers open. It's also a time of unpredictable weather. We are having lots of rain, (and some hail), which is quickly turning the grass to a lovely green. It's all seemed very brown when it wasn't snowy. Last week the temperature hit ninety degrees one day and then it snowed. I should just keep a coat in my car. I went out yesterday without one and that was a mistake.

April is National Poetry Month. It began in 1996 by the Academy of American Poets so take a moment to pause and read a poem a day.

April 1-April Fools' Day

April 1-9- Passover

April 5- Easter

April 9- Unicorn Day

April 10- Siblings Day

April 12- Grilled Cheese Day

April 15- Income Tax. Don't forget

April 22- Earth Day

April 24- Arbor Day

April 30- Make Up Your Own Day

"April Showers Bring May Flowers" or "April is the Cruelest Month" Take your pick. 

My "Mail a Letter Every Week is going a little slowly, but I will be sending my first letters tomorrow. Let me know if you would like one.

Reading: THERE WILL BE BODIES by Lindsey Davis. Part of a series of historical fiction about ancient Rome. I am deeply fascinated and hope to read the entire series. The library isn't co-operating so it may take a while.