Welcome to the

Random words, pictures and thoughts of one who always wishes to be on the mind's road to discovery!

About Me

My photo
Connecticut River Valley, New England, United States

Monday, September 16, 2013

Sour Grapes

Past Forgetting: My Love Affair with Dwight D. EisenhowerPast Forgetting: My Love Affair with Dwight D. Eisenhower by Kay Summersby Morgan
My rating: 2 of 5 stars

I'd call this fantasy and wishful thinking. A close relationship, no doubt--the times that brought them together were stressful. Love--perhaps. An affair--don't think so. She was vivacious, pretty, fun to have around and competent in her job. Divorced, engaged, a party girl and 20 years younger, I'm sure there was an attachment. War ended, he went home with his whole staff, excepting her. They saw each other again, briefly by her doing and it was over. She met famous people, drank lots of champagne, ate well, had uniforms tailored to order matching his, played bridge, sunned on the Riviera, drove his car, rode horses, batted around a golf ball. He got her a commission in the WACS and appointed his aide. He arranged for her to receive American citizenship on a fast track. Got her a couple of medals and promotions but didn't bring her to the Pentagon. War over, good-bye shadow. And, as a result, it was important to her, on her deathbed to make sure that we all knew he often became ill, smoked heavily and was impotent. Ah, so much for love Summersby dictated this " memoir " as she was dying after liver cancer surgery and arranged to have it published in 1976, after her death in '75 and many years after DDE's death. Mamie, however, was still living. How additionally cruel

View all my reviews

Sunday, September 1, 2013

A rainy, Nashville Sunday noon

Sunday, September 1, 2013 1:52 pm The office in the townhouse. After the spell of incredibly hot, humid weather that sent me scurrying for cover inside with the A/C set on 73, it was a pleasure to awake at 7:30 to the sound of rain on the metal awnings. After disconnecting the alarm system I opened the back door to find the temperature had dropped considerably as had the humidity.
It has been a week since Bill returned to Vermont and, for the most part, I've been " busy " taking coffee and a book out onto the deck around 8ish and staying out sunning and reading until around 10-11. Each day I do something different like listen to music, read magazines, do the laundry, prepare meals, do the dishes etc. He and I speak daily for half an hour so I know what is going on with Attila the Cat and the chipmunks, Betsy and her teaching, and all the rest of the daily life at home. Today, unable to go outdoors in the rain, I opened the door, pulled over the screen and decided to do my nails.
While the first coat dried I put aside the book I'm reading on the history of punctuation and symbols and other typographical marks for a slightly lighter read.
Several chapters in, totally engrossed and oblivious to my surroundings, I was pulled back into the present by three deep toned gongs on the wind chimes hanging across the deck from the open door.
Looking up I saw that the rain had stopped and a slight breeze was blowing the pendulum. Most of the time its motion was not great enough to strike the hollow pipes but every so often a stronger gust would provide enough energy to cause the striker to play a short ripple of music. Now that I was awakened to the day once more my ear began to pick out other sounds. The cacophony of unidentified and unseen birds alarmed it seemed--by what? A cat? A dog? A neighbor out for a walk? A larger bird? Within seconds I heard the lonesome sound of a train whistle and then the heavy passage of its cars over tracks that seem to be fairly close. I didn't know I was near a track! What I've been well aware of is the proximity to the airport. As if reading the path my mind was taking there soon appeared a huge jet, its engines screaming, close enough, it seemed, that I could touch it, making its way to a runway for a landing. I try not to allow myself to think how much of this neighborhood would be wiped out or what my fate would be if either the plane had a mechanical failure or the pilot somehow miscalculated in his approach. Having lived in Winooski for several years along an approach to Burlington Airport, I know, that in time, I won't even notice the flights anymore. Farther in the distance the sound of a siren, shimmering with the Doppler Effect, makes me wonder if it is mounted on a police car, an ambulance--the hospital is near, as well-- or a fire truck. In a few seconds, the original is joined by the Wop-Wop-Wop sound that says get out of my way and then the Whoooooo up and down of the vehicle in unobstructed flight moves farther away. Beneath the deck I hear the acceleration and then almost stopped sounds of cars passing by along our street, which is mottled with speed bumps, one of which is right at the end of the deck. I'm amused by the drivers who go so fast for such a short gap between them before hitting their brakes to come almost to a standstill going over one. Eventually, the emergency vehicle has gone beyond my hearing, the plane has landed, the train has moved on and the birds have flown in one darkened mass away to another tree line, having ceded possession of this one to whatever alarmed them originally. The breeze dies down, the cars are gone and all that disturbs the air is the constant drone of the cicadas which never stops. It is so much a part of the background that the early morning seems strange without their sounds. I check my nails--they are dry
and almost the color of my bookmark. Quiet restored I return to my book. A while later, Betsy calls to tell me that her master teacher, who is exactly her age--graduated the same year from Hanover High School as she did from TA--has been allowing her to take over in his classes. In one she ran the discussion that starts the class for fifteen minutes. He decided to have her do the same thing in the next session without him in the room, then, when discussion was over and he had returned, he directed her to teach the day's lesson. She says she isn't nervous with the kids but since this is sociology and she isn't really well versed in it, she became panicky once he returned. He assured her she did quite well for a first shot and she is to develop the questions for Tuesday's discussion--they are reading Tuesdays with Morey--I've been meaning to read that book. She is excited and loves what she is doing--I can hear it in her voice and I'm glad and very proud of her. She also said that she has put HULU Plus on both TV's and the computers--so I checked to see if I can get it on my computer and it is working--so another streaming if I get bored with TV and/ or books. Haven't touched my embroidery yet--so thus far, I'm happy as a pig in --well, you know! Enjoy the rest of your Labor Day weekend all--until my next missive--bye from Central Tennessee. Kathy