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ODDBALL PHOTOS, WEEK 22 — COUNTRY HOUSE PHOTOS

CEE’S ODDBALL PHOTOS, WEEK 22

At a party, almost over. A good party. Old friends, not seen in a long time. It’s a little disconcerting because everyone seems surprised I’m alive … or maybe that I look reasonably normal.

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I’m not sure what they expected. Maybe I’d rather not know. For once, I made a command decision to spend the time socializing and not taking pictures.

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But just before we left, after the cake, the food, and conversation, I grabbed a few shots.

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From Sharon, Massachusetts, this week’s oddball photos.

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A MAGICAL WALK IN A WOODS

The Ray Bradbury Noun List Twist

My list? A shiny scroll, vacuum taffy, a cake, a tool box, armor, a rainbow turtle, a bottle, a bottle of Allergone, a laser. I shall use the first seven of these nine items, with modifying adjectives to make them part of the narrative. It’s a magical adventure in the woods … or at least the beginning of one …


sun and misty woodsIt’s misty in the forest. I was hanging loose, on my recliner with the laptop. The ballgame was playing on the television, I mentally drifting, lazily thinking about supper. What I would cook. When.

Then I drifted into a trance? Just a light trance — which brought me to the forest. I didn’t do it on purpose exactly, but sometimes the magic gets loose and does its own thing.

Not sure how far from home I am. For all I know, I could be in my back yard. Can’t see farther than the trees and mist blocking my view.

I’m here for a reason, but what?

I’ve brought stuff with me. The most interesting item is a shiny scroll. Not mine. I just found it in my hand. I’m sure it’s magical. Without a power source, it’s glowing. I bet when I open it will contain instructions, or at least an explanation.

I’ve brought some favorite goodies — a half pound of vacuum-packed salt water taffy and a boxed 7-layer cake. I would have brought water, but it’s bulky and heavy. There’s usually water in the woods anyhow. In fact, I can hear water, probably a stream no more than a couple of hundred feet away. I will head towards it in just a moment.

I bought my spelling toolbox. I grabbed it as I left home. It’s my version of a magician’s top hat. I can keep putting stuff in, but it never gets unwieldy or too full.

small bottleI’m wearing armor too, just to be on the safe side. It attaches itself to me as soon as I begin a magical adventure. It knows. An old hobbit buddy of mine gave it to me when he went to the Grey Havens. It’s almost weightless, far stronger than Kevlar. Mithril. You can’t buy it anymore, not even on Amazon.

I packed my rainbow porcelain turtle. I keep it full of useful spells. I never know what I’ll need … or when. And my little golden bottle. It looks empty. but it really contains a tiny genie who can slip silently into any crevice, no matter how small.

Now, I think I’ll follow the sound of that water. When I get there, I’ll have a little something to drink, a bit of cake or taffy. Open the scroll, see what I’ll be doing for the next bit of time.

Magic is rich with the unexpected.

THE SOLDIER, RUPERT BROOKE – WORLD WAR ONE CENTENNIAL

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1914 V: The Soldier

If I should die, think only this of me:
That there’s some corner of a foreign field
That is for ever England. There shall be
In that rich earth a richer dust concealed;
A dust whom England bore, shaped, made aware,
Gave, once, her flowers to love, her ways to roam,
A body of England’s, breathing English air,
Washed by the rivers, blest by suns of home.

And think, this heart, all evil shed away,
A pulse in the eternal mind, no less
Gives somewhere back the thoughts by England given;
Her sights and sounds; dreams happy as her day;
And laughter, learnt of friends; and gentleness,
In hearts at peace, under an English heaven.

Rupert Brooke

Rupert Brooke never came back from the war. An entire generation of the young men of Europe and England died in that war and the population had barely begun to return to normal when War II came calling.

As we celebrate the one hundredth anniversary of The Great War, it is good to remember how many soldiers and civilians died. This includes tens of thousands of Americans, and millions of English, Australian, Canadians, French, German, Belgian, Austrian, Russians and many others.

The number of military and civilian casualties in World War I totaled more than 37 million of which American military deaths are 53,402.

Civilian casualties out-numbered military casualties.

I want to believe that the era of endless war is coming to a close. During every year of my life, from my first memories of the Korean War, through Vietnam, the myriad wars in Africa, Europe, and Asia … there has been a war going on somewhere. As often as not, American fighting men are involved.

Today we celebrate the hundredth birthday of the war to end all wars and which obviously was merely the opening salvo of a century of endless war, I hope one of these days war can be nothing but footnotes.  Not a reality we can watch each night on the news. I can hope.

IT WAS A LOVELY WAR — A WORLD WAR ONE CENTENNIAL

Happy Birthday, Great War. It’s 100 years since the day you officially started. World War I (WWI), also known as the First World War, was a nearly global war. It officially began on July 28, 1914, though its real beginnings were rooted in events beginning decades, even centuries earlier.

It was an ugly, devastating war. Four years of slaughter that — technically — ended on November 11, 1918.

The official number of military casualties is 22,477,500 killed, wounded, or missing in action. The combined number of military and civilian casualties is more than 37 million. If, as I do, you consider World War II as chapter two of the same conflict, the number of dead becomes even more incomprehensible.

For the past couple of weeks, Turner Classic Movies (TCM) has been “celebrating” the centennial of the first world war, inviting historians and military people to do the introductions and closing comments on the films. General Wesley Clark has been doing TCM’s intros and outros, the last of which was for Oh! What a Lovely War.

He referred to the movie as a musical comedy. While it has amusing moments, calling it a musical comedy doesn’t really cut it. If comedy can be dark, this is one dark comedy.

It’s also surprisingly informative. I can date my interest in World War I and modern American history to having seen this movie when it was released in 1969.

In his closing comments following the movie, General Clark said he hoped we had learned our lesson from this and all the other wars of the past century. I turned to Garry and said, “And what lesson, exactly, might that be?”

“Obviously,” said my husband, making a sour face, “We have learned nothing.”

I agree. Well, I guess we did learn a few things. We learned to build more efficient weapons, including weapons of mass destruction. We can kill more people faster — but no deader — than we did 100 years ago. Much of our military technology emerged during and post-WWI.

I don’t see this as progress. If you want to know why I’m so cynical, why I have trouble believing in a benign deity, look at the casualty figures from the collective wars of the past century.

I love this movie. Not only because of its historical veracity — it’s accurate — but because the music is wonderful. The cast includes everyone who was anyone in British cinema at the time — Laurence Olivier, John Gielgud, Maggie Smith, Vanessa Redgrave, Dirk Bogarde, Ralph Richardson and more, all having a great time.

I’ve seen this many times and I guess so has Garry since we can both know the words to all the songs. Catchy. Very catchy.


OH! WHAT A LOVELY WAR

Directed by Richard Attenborough (his directorial début)

OH WHAT A LOVELY WAR

I saw “Oh! What a Lovely War” when it was released in 1969 and never forgot it. Based on the long-running British stage production, it’s World War I — in song, dance and irony. Its catchy score sticks in your brain. The songs are those sung by the troop during that long war. The cast includes everyone who was anyone in British stage or screen during the 1960s. The credits were a veritable who’s-who of English actors.

World War I is hard to understand, even when you study it. No matter how many books I read, I’m not sure I do or will. Its causes are rooted in old world grudges that make no sense to Americans.

So many ancient hatreds — thousands of years of scores to be settled.

My mother summed it: “Everyone was armed to the teeth. They wanted war. They just needed an excuse. Europe was a giant bomb waiting for someone to light a match.”

Hers may be as good an answer as any other. When the war began, it was the old world. The crowned heads of Europe ruled. When it finally ground to a halt in 1918 (it didn’t really end — WWII was the second chapter of the same war), the world had changed beyond recognition. The European monarchies were gone. A generation of men had been slaughtered; the death toll was beyond belief. The callous indifference to loss of life by those in command remains incomprehensible.

More than 9 million men were killed in battle. This does not include collateral damage to non-combatants and death by disease or starvation. It paved the way for major political upheaval throughout the world.

Says the movie at the beginning: “The principal statements made by the historical characters in this film are based on documentary evidence, and the words of the songs are those sung by the troops during the First World War.”

The first World War could be called an orchestrated, organized international effort to murder a generation of men. They did a good job.

The statements of the historical characters — all lodged a safe distance from the fighting — are ludicrous. General Haig, looking at the staggering loss of life on both sides, really said: “in the end, the Germans will have 5,000 men and we will have 10,000, so we will have won.”? He said it. And meant it.

The arrival of the Americans and their takeover of the endless war — bringing it to a conclusion while there was still something left to save — is a great cinematic moment. I wonder how long it would have gone on without American involvement? Would Europe exist or would it all be a wasteland?

The war is told with music and dancing. Songs mixed with pithy comments from generals, kings, Kaisers and soldiers. It’s a long movie — 144 minutes — and I can promise you that you will have a far better and more visceral understanding of this war and what those little red poppies the Veterans organizations give out (do they still do that?) to commemorate the war to end all wars. Until the next war. And the one after that.

The music is ghastly, funny, catchy. The movie is out of print. It was only in print for a couple of months. I had been looking for it for a long time and was thrilled to snag a copy. A few copies are still available through Amazon. If you are a history buff and love great movies, grab one.

Great directing, biting sarcastic humor, terrific music and informative, this movie is in a category all by itself. It was unavailable for more than 20 years. You won’t be disappointed and you won’t forget it. In the 45 years since I first saw it, I haven’t forgotten it.


From Amazon.com:

Richard Attenborough’s directorial début was this musical satire that deftly skewers the events of World War I — including the assassination of Archduke Franz Ferdinand, a Christmastime encounter between German and British forces, and the signing of the Treaty of Versailles — by portraying them as absurd amusement park attractions. All-star cast includes Laurence Olivier, John Gielgud, Maggie Smith, Vanessa Redgrave, Dirk Bogarde, Ralph Richardson; look quickly for Jane Seymour in her screen début.

144 min. Widescreen (Enhanced); English Dolby Digital mono; Subtitles: English; audio commentary by Attenborough; “making of” documentary.

NOTE: As of a couple of days ago, there were 11 copies remaining.

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WHITE HYDRANGEA AND MAYBE PINK CRAPE MYRTLE ??

White flowers are always a challenge for me. When these snow-white Hydrangea threw down the gauntlet, I fought back with my Panasonic Lumix DMC ZS-25.

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Maybe I’ve finally got it?

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It turned out the Crape Myrtle was even more of a challenge.

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It turns out, these huge puffy flowers are hard to get in focus, especially from the long distance I was forced (by fences) to work from.

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CYNICAL ECCENTRICITY: THEY WILL THANK US SOMEDAY

Marilyn Armstrong:

Now that I reread this, it is so relevant, I thought I’d post it again for your “second time around” enjoyment. WordPress, this is what you get for repeating the same prompts. You get the same responses!

Originally posted on SERENDIPITY:

DAILY PROMPT: QUIRK OF HABIT

Cultivating Eccentricity by Alienorajt

Cultivating an air (or even a full-blown hurricane) of eccentricity should be absolutely de rigueur, in my opinion – especially in those of us past the first flush of youth but still this side of the grave. And, frankly, the more bloody irritating the better! What’s the point in having quirks, foibles and disgusting habits if you don’t use them to shock, embarrass and annoy your loved ones? Wicked waste of talent!

I read this and thought “By George, she’s got it!”

After a certain age, charm is a waste of time. Being nice to people just gets you ignored and classified as a “harmless old lady,” which is far beyond annoying and ventures in the realm of things that make me go psycho.

Being odd is annoying, but properly applied, it is an equal opportunity irritant. Blurting out non sequiturs at…

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WHICH NUMBER IS AGE?

Age Old Question — “Age is just a number,” says the well-worn adage. But is it a number you care about, or one you tend (or try) to ignore?


Are you serious or just young? Because no one over 65 would posit a question like this without also laughing hysterically, possibly falling down and breaking a hip.

Photo: Debbie Stone

Photo: Debbie Stone

Age it isn’t a number, per se. But it’s a number which will tell you when you can stop pulling the plow and collect your pension. Otherwise, it’s more like an ache in your back, a bag full of medications, and more doctor appointments on the calendar than parties.

It’s being tired, but never sleeping soundly but getting to stay up as late as you want and sleeping in. Every day, if you choose.

It’s discovering you can’t do “that” — whatever that is — anymore. Your brain is fine, but your body persists in arguing about everything and worst of all, winning most of the battles. It’s finally having plenty of time, but being always short of money. Lots of time to travel, but not much motivation to tackle airports and long car trips. It’s also discovering the joys of being home. Of having a home.

It’s realizing you’re smarter, wiser, more experienced than the kids and grandkids, but they don’t want to know about it. So you get to watch them make exactly the same mistakes you made. If they are of a creative bent, you can watch them make a whole bunch of unique (and sometimes weird) mistakes you never imagined and which, if they weren’t so destructive (or it were some other kids about whom you didn’t care) you’d find hilarious.

And with an inevitability like day following night, after using their creativity to shoot themselves in both feet … they will ask to borrow money. (Note: Loans to children and grand-children are not loans. They are permanent grants-in-aid.) Or perhaps move into your guest room. Or leave their dog/cat/guinea pigs with you “just until they get their lives sorted out.”

Life does not prepare you for getting older. Nothing prepares you for getting older. No matter how smart you are, it always takes you by surprise.

The best part of oldness? Not caring what the younger ones think. And, if you are lucky, you get to say (or just think) “Ha! You’ll see! Your time will come.” If they are lucky.