There aren’t many pictures of American troops in France at the end of World War 1. I’ve tried to find them but have come up empty. Maybe I’m using the wrong search words. If I had a picture of my father in his uniform, I”d post it.
Daddy would often joke that he made the rank of “buck private”. He had no medals, no stripes. He’d been sent to France and arrived after the war was over.
For three days, his company was marched across the countryside in France. They had to have water but they hadn’t had any food until they came to a farm house. The wife cooked turnip greens and cornbread (probably not the same kind we know in the South). My father had hated turnip greens but he said that was the best meal he ever ate. He told my mother if she wanted to serve turnip greens and cornbread every meal seven days a week, he would be happy.
He was a member of the American Legion and faithfully went to the meetings. The man who built the rock work on the home place had to face the fact that he would never finish it. He sold it to Daddy because they were fellow Legionaires (at least, that’s what I was told).
Mother kept the flag from Daddy’s casket and his garrison hat in her cedar chest. He had been buried with full military honors. For years, she slept under his army blanket. It was heavy olive green wool and warm. It was also scratchy if it got next to my bare skin.
And now on to current events.
After I’d posted last night about finding the info re: Daddy’s burial place, I sent it to my roommate from academy days. She’s been wanting to do my genealogy but didn’t have all the bits and pieces she needed. A few minutes later, the phone rang. She’d been working on it when my message came through. We hung up an hour and a quarter later.
I’d been coughing frequently during the conversation and when we hung up, it started in earnest. I began to gag and retch and now Twinkle has nothing on me. If you are squeamish, skip this part. Standing in front of the kitchen sink, I threw up clear mucous-y liquid in a puddle on the floor. It wasn’t pleasant but my coughing stopped for the most part.
I’m embarrassed to say that I was still in my housecoat when my cousin rang the doorbell this morning. She’d noticed the screen was pulled out—again—and said she’d fix it—again. I asked if she’d come in and see about my latest equipment in the fight against summer heat, the Eco Breeze.
She came in and spent her mowing time installing it. I think it would be much more effective if it weren’t hiding at the end of the dining room table. I’ve moved the chair that was in front of it and I think the air flow is better. It’s been very comfortable in here today and, at times, almost too cool. Right now, I have my housecoat on over Mother’s dress for a bit of warmth. Oh, and she did fix the screen.
My Memorial Day celebration didn’t include watermelon. I thought about it but it isn’t very sweet and I want sweet in a melon. I cooked a heirloom artichoke and it’s one of the best I’ve ever eaten. The vegan hollandaise was a bit thin (it’s usually too thick) but it had a good flavor. Maybe I should say “has” because there’s a two cup container in the fridge that’s almost full. It will be good on broccoli tomorrow.
The notebook is up and running and wirelessly connected to the Internet. My sister is learning to use it. I don’t know if she’s set up Thunderbird or not. I doubt our other sister has though she’s told us to use her gmail address and that’s something new. I guess if a person is used to and likes web mail, there’s no reason to use an email client. I’ve always enjoyed having my email on my desktop rather than in a browser window but it’s whatever one’s preference is.
I’ve worked on the helps some more today and will do the last one before I go to bed. Twinkle has been fed her snack but I’ll have to give her more to do her during the night.
Genese has played a word and I played a word. My holiday is complete.