SOA Watch Protest
Hil B and friends bussed to Georgia to protest the School of the Americas and here’s the video. She appears at the very end.
Hil B and friends bussed to Georgia to protest the School of the Americas and here’s the video. She appears at the very end.
Back when I was among the living. We’re hanging out at a coffee shop in Philadelphia on our last day of Parent’s Weekend.
Just so I don’t get too full of myself, here’s a turkey day pic with Pesky and Debbie.
Back when I was among the living. We’re hanging out at a coffee shop in Philadelphia on our last day of Parent’s Weekend.
Just so I don’t get too full of myself, here’s a turkey day pic with Pesky and Debbie.
Here’s a not-so-short movie taken during Thanksgiving. Not continuous, but a bunch of clips spliced together. So much noise, and all before Cort, Kathy, Sarah T, Jeff, Robby and Martin arrived. I went to bed early but I understand that Pesky Godson was the last to leave our house.
Tomorrow I’ll post the table photos.
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Of some interest, on Emily’s blog (I act like I know her, I don’t) is a photo of my fish.
“I saw your blog request.  Let’s start with the living room transformation.  It’s the only way we’ll all fit.  I’ll try to take a picture with everyone sitting in the chairs.” La Rad
Do I ask for much? Have I ever really asked for anything? Whined, maybe. Have I ever made you all feel guilty in any way? The answer to all that is, I think, no. The blog works because it’s like the daily paper.
So here’s my once a year request. If you read the blog and your heart still beats, send me a Thanksgiving day family photo.
(Pesky Godson is exempt because he’ll be in mine.)
*Adam’s comment when he walked into the Grok Hill cabin for the very first time.
Hi Michael….again sorry for the long delay. I actually got out of bed the night I sent you my email to see if you responded because I was worried that my feelings about the cabin would upset you. Well, not upset really…but topple some image of me…or just your romance with the cabin! I was so relieved to get your email back, but, I didn’t have the energy to write back then because I had some dang stomach flu that just hung on and on. Now, Eric’s got it. Brother!Â
Anyway, I laughed at your friend Adam’s comment. I’m happy to accept the compliment, however long ago it was made. You probably don’t remember that I cried when I first saw the cabin (after the hour or so digging out of the ditch, just minutes from our destination).
Really, the shelves probably still have spices Peter and I had stocked. And the white containers on the top shelf are Lic’s ice cream containers from Evansville ( I think) that probably still have 20 year old rice and beans in them. Of course, as Peter reminded me today, those replaced the black containers emptied of rat poison that Ed had reemployed as food storage containers. It took quite a few weeks as I recall for it to dawn on Peter and I (Peter, I believe) that they were indeed originally rat poison containers.Â
I guess I thought from your descriptions of going up there from time to time – reading the journal, etc – that there would be some system in place: fresh water left and dated, some supplies for the weary traveler – crackers, cookies, etc. Maybe closed in shelves (for those items) …and at least one comfortable chair! Two preferably! I couldn’t believe there sat the same broken down lawn chair with some remnant of a pillow and the white metal & canvas chairs Peter and I “sprung” for on our large budget. At 51, I was looking around for some sort of comfortable place to sit down! There was none! What a life! Geez there wasn’t even a log to sit on at the camp fire site.
What happened to Ed’s sewing machine? I couldn’t figure out what was missing under the bunk bed…but I think it was the sewing machine. That’s where Peter sat with his typewriter! Amazing.
Eileen
*Adam’s comment when he walked into the Grok Hill cabin for the very first time.
Hi Michael….again sorry for the long delay. I actually got out of bed the night I sent you my email to see if you responded because I was worried that my feelings about the cabin would upset you. Well, not upset really…but topple some image of me…or just your romance with the cabin! I was so relieved to get your email back, but, I didn’t have the energy to write back then because I had some dang stomach flu that just hung on and on. Now, Eric’s got it. Brother!Â
Anyway, I laughed at your friend Adam’s comment. I’m happy to accept the compliment, however long ago it was made. You probably don’t remember that I cried when I first saw the cabin (after the hour or so digging out of the ditch, just minutes from our destination).
Really, the shelves probably still have spices Peter and I had stocked. And the white containers on the top shelf are Lic’s ice cream containers from Evansville ( I think) that probably still have 20 year old rice and beans in them. Of course, as Peter reminded me today, those replaced the black containers emptied of rat poison that Ed had reemployed as food storage containers. It took quite a few weeks as I recall for it to dawn on Peter and I (Peter, I believe) that they were indeed originally rat poison containers.Â
I guess I thought from your descriptions of going up there from time to time – reading the journal, etc – that there would be some system in place: fresh water left and dated, some supplies for the weary traveler – crackers, cookies, etc. Maybe closed in shelves (for those items) …and at least one comfortable chair! Two preferably! I couldn’t believe there sat the same broken down lawn chair with some remnant of a pillow and the white metal & canvas chairs Peter and I “sprung” for on our large budget. At 51, I was looking around for some sort of comfortable place to sit down! There was none! What a life! Geez there wasn’t even a log to sit on at the camp fire site.
What happened to Ed’s sewing machine? I couldn’t figure out what was missing under the bunk bed…but I think it was the sewing machine. That’s where Peter sat with his typewriter! Amazing.
Eileen
At the Manchester Airport.
They both looked great, but I have to say, I don’t think I’ve ever seen Matt so pumped. All of this gum flapping about how great Temple is, the boy acted like he’d been swept off the desert floor minutes before the vultures began feeding.
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