It's been a good, long weekend for me, and I just have some musings to share this morning.
I spent half an hour in the cemetery south of Waco at St. John's, the church my parents were baptized, confirmed, and married in. Someone had already been there, with tinted roses on both graves. The last names on the large markers were all familiar to me, and this country church always brings back memories.
When I was very young, the men sat on one side and the women and children on the other. When we did the Confession, those who were able actually got up, turned around, and knelt at the pew..no kneelers for us!!
But it was windy out there, and walking in that grass made my poor balance poorer, so I then headed to York and checked in at the B and B where I had a reservation. Also, when I was young, I always admired the beautiful, old, large homes in the eastern part of the city by the college. This time I stayed in one!
Only about fifty of us gather at Chances R anymore; the school closed in the 70s. But that number has been consistent enough that we will hold it again next year. Mind you, the “reporter” for the class of '52 was pretty feisty for being 88 years old. She informed us the softball team had been unbeaten the whole four years she was in school. She also told us the first volleyball uniforms were blue jeans and yellow T shirts!
A classmate who complained to me of long COVID last year was back in form; she told me not to send emails because she was never home! If I needed to talk to her, I have to call. (or text, we agreed we had to learn to text for our kids!)
We also agreed most of us have symptoms of long COVID much of the time; they are talking about brain fog, fatigue, and muscle aches. So how do we know the difference?
When I arrived home on Sunday, neighbor Caroline brought me the book we are reading for Book Club, The Postmistress, which is another WWII story. This one focuses on the reporting that went on, from London and from France. In fact, last night, I found “Edward R Murrow reporting from London during the Blitz” online.
Since I am also plodding through a book about Secretary of State Stanton, during the Civil War, I am again struck by the changes; they had telegrams and trains; while during WWII, we had radio broadcasts as it happened.
I'm reading the Stanton book because it's written by a fellow named Walter Stahr. I have no idea if we are related, but the tall marker in that country cemetery says Carston Stahr, the name of my great grandfather who came here from Oldenburg. Sometime, after I finish the book, I will attempt to contact Walter and find out where he's from.
Last night, Monday, Sue and Monte brought a Val's pizza and we finished with rhubarb cobbler; a friend from church left some rhubarb on Sunday. We all are happy to have that first cobbler in the spring, and it depends on the generosity of friends.
We also checked out the locations for the cemeteries the Wayne Herald mentioned for Legion honor guards; we found them all except the Swedish. Who knew there were Swedes in that German community? Apparently, it's north of Hoskins, but I don't think I've ever seen it. Hope your weekend was good.
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