I’ve always had a soft spot in my heart for Savannah. I remember as a child, riding the train with my Girl Scout troop to visit the home of Juliet Lowe, the founder of Girl Scouting. Then a few years ago, I visited Savannah again with one of my friends. We visited the downtown shops on River Street (LOVED the pecan pralines at River Street Sweets), ate some of the best barbeque in the world and took some long walks along the river.  Then, just a couple weeks ago, RT had to be in Savannah on business.  I wanted SO badly to go with him! Doggone having to work!

If I ever get the chance to visit Savannah again, I’d like to take a tour. I especially think a Civil War Walk would be fascinating.  I would love to see the homes of some of the most famous Civil War generals and to learn more about Savannah’s role in the Civil War.  Besides a Civil War tour, I’d love to take a tour of Savannah’s famous haunted houses.  Cool, huh?

I was checking out Trusted Tours and Attractions and found that by subscribing to their free e-newsletter I would automatically be entered to win 4 free tickets to tours in a city of my choice.  So I’m entering so that the next time I can join RT on one of his business trips, I’ll be able to take advantage of tours in that area.  The e-newsletter offer ends Friday, December 14th, 2007.

Trusted Tours has a long list of cities with available tours, including San Diego and Key West.

This Veterans Day I celebrated by reading my favorite post about World War II.  It’s the story of my parents when they were a young married couple.  My father was in San Diego - waiting to ship out to the south Pacific.  My mother was in Georgia - missing her Marine husband.  So she took the week-long train trip from one side of the country to the other in order to visit him.  Here her story - from her blog, Ruthlace.

A Glimspe of Romance during World War II

During World War II, I made a week long train trip from Georgia to San Diego, California to be with my Marine husband before he was to be shipped out for action in the South Pacific.

Charles told me “girls” were a major topic of conversation among these young marines in the barracks. This close knit unit of men passed around and pinned up pictures of girl friends and wives for the admiration of their brothers.

“The greatest generation” is a label that was later to be conferred on them. At this point they were just “men in the making” and still preparing for overseas duty and combat.

My husband was happy to announce to his buddies that a real Georgia peach was on her way to California. It was a week long train trip with crowds of soldiers and their wives as weary travelers.

Alas, soon after my arrival, I was quarantined at the Naval Hospital with Scarlet Fever. My Marine could only come over to sit on a wall outside the hospital window and look longingly inside and speak through the window.

One afternoon he brought a buddy to see his “pin up girl.” On this afternoon, the “Georgia Peach” was lying on her stomach with her feet toward the window. The only thing my husband’s buddy could think to say was, “She sure has beautiful feet.”

The photo above is of my mother during that time. I definitely come form “good stock,” don’t I?  No wonder my father was so crazy in love with her.

My mother talks about the exuberant patriotism of the times.  There were no pseudo-authorities in the news pontificating against the war.  Rather than highlighting and exaggerating every possible negative happening as the news agencies do today, the news shows were filled with positive news and supportive commentary.  It’s sad to see how the liberals have come to believe they’re “cool” by denouncing their own country - how they bastardize their free speech rights.  The contrast of our country from World War II times and now is disheartening.

My father came home from the war, and he and Mother went on to raise seven children together and to see all seven of their kids grow up, marry and do well on their own - and they welcomed a bunch of grandchildren before my father died in 1986.  God bless all our service folks - both past and present.

I started this post several months ago but never got around to finishing it until now.

Sophisticated Writer had a post entitled A Letter to 1995 Me.  The idea of writing about the wisdom gained from life experience appealed to me.  If I could go back and give my 1995 self some advice, what would it be?  Hindsight is 20/20, and I’ve learned some lessons since 1995.  Here’s what I would tell the 1995 Carol:

Stop obsessing about your weight.  It’s not worth your mental and physical energy.  Accept yourself as you are and set your mind on the important things in life.  Do what you want to.  If you lose weight because you stop obsessing about it, great.  If not, you’re no worse off than before.  And whatever you do, do NOT start taking those stupid diet pills.  They will just mess up your metabolism and wreak havoc on your body.  Sure, you will get a few years of being thinner out of them, but the price will be too much in terms of your long-term health.

Go see a good counselor about the marriage issues.  Now.  Don’t worry about the expense and don’t worry if you have to go by yourself.   It’s not healthy to not talk about things that bother you.  Who knows - maybe if you go to counseling, the marriage might last and you won’t have to go through a divorce.  But even if it doesn’t save the marriage, at least you’ll be saner during the process.

Take dancing lessons.  It’s something you’ve always wanted to do.  So what if you have to go alone.  It’s better to enjoy life by yourself than to have a partner in misery.

Go ahead and finish your dissertation. Now.  Make it a priority rather than spending your energy on something that can’t be fixed right now.  If you put it off too long, it’ll be too late, and all your coursework and qualifying exams will have been for nothing.  You go past the deadline - and the only way to get the doctorate is to start all over again.

Most of all - do NOT marry anyone unless you are in love with him.  He can’t “love you enough for both of you.”  If he drives you nuts before marriage, he will drive you even more nuts afterwards.  (This refers to my very brief second marriage in which I married simply because I knew the guy would always love me and that there wouldn’t be all the drama I experienced in my other two significant relationships - and also because I figured marrying “for love” hadn’t worked out in my first marriage, and the love thing hadn’t worked out with the guy I had dated seriously while I was divorced.  So why not go for someone who would always love me and someone who wouldn’t be a drama-king in the relationship?  I found that a marriage not based on mutual love doesn’t work.)

There really are only a few things I regret in my life - my second marriage,  not finishing my doctorate, and the fact that I still obsess over my weight.  I guess that’s not too bad for 58 years of living.

I think it would be helpful to write to my 2017 self.  What would I want to tell myself in ten years?  That’s an endeavor for another day.

My birthday was last Sunday - August 26th.  I was in a rotten mood on my birthday.  That afternoon I went to my school to do a little work, and I wrote a birthday post from my school computer.  However, since the post reflected my rotten mood, I deleted it.  So now I’m 58 years old.  I remember as a child thinking about the new century and the fact that in the year 2000 I would turn 51 years old.  It was such a distant and unimaginable age, that it seemed too much to even consider.  Then 2000 came, I turned 51, and then 2002, 2003 and so on.  And now I see the age of 60 closing in on me.

Time - and life - passes much too quickly.

For now, though - happy birthday to myself.  May my 59th year of life be a great one!

(P.S. And thanks to everyone who has left me birthday greetings in comments on other posts!)

It has been more than twenty years since my father died.  Sometimes it seems unreal that he isn’t here.  I often look at my two grandgirls and think of how much Daddy would have loved and enjoyed them.  I would love for him to see my own children as adults now - how proud he would have been of them!

Here is a poem I wrote a few years after my father’s death.  I’ve posted it here before, but it is so personally meaningful that I wanted to post it again.  So bear with me.

It was back in 1968 - my freshman winter at college in Kentucky.  RT and I had started dating in the fall.  I was crazy about the guy!   I was living on campus in a women’s dorm.  RT lived across campus in a men’s dorm.  My dorm was an old fashioned one with the restrooms and showers at the end of the hall. 

I had to work my way through school doing various jobs - cleaning the bathrooms, working in the cafeteria - whatever work I could get.  That year I worked the breakfast line in the cafeteria, and so I got up early in the  mornings to get to the cafeteria before the serving lines opened.

That Valentine morning, the alarm clock rang, and I trudged down the hallway to take care of morning necessities and get my shower.  Awhile later, I returned to my room - and there on my bed was a HUGE heart-shaped box of candy with a large red valentine card next to it.  

It was from RT, and to say I was surprised would be an understatement.  He wrote lots of sweetly romantic stuff in the card.  He’s very good at that.  I was ecstatic because I never expected such a treat.  RT had gotten a friend of mine to hide the candy and card, wait for me to go to the restroom, and then put them on my pillow.  It was a tender start to a life-long romance.  I still smile when I think of it.

I visited my mother earlier this week, and I took photos of items she wanted catalogued. She said I should also take pictures of the photo displays of the seven of us siblings because, she told me, “After I’m gone, no one else will have photos of all seven of you grouped together on one wall.” I took the photos:

This is a display on the family room wall of the seven siblings as babies. From left to right: top row is Janice and Joan (Daddy’s Roses),middle row is Terry (Alone on a Limb), Debi, and me - the one standing. The bottom row is Beth (Blue Star Chronicles) and David.

This display of the seven sibs as children is in the foyer. Youngest (top left) to oldest (bottom right). The top row is David and Beth (Blue Star Chronicles). Middle row is Debi, me (in the middle in my “Thinker” pose) and Terry (Alone on a Limb). And the bottom row has Joan (Daddy’s Roses) and Janice.

This is the wall in the hall - lots of pictures of everyone including sibs, in-laws, grandkids, and great-grandkids.

I’m glad I took these photos. They bring back lots of happy memories. My mother has had the first two groups of pictures in every home I can remember.

Yet another year has gone by, and a new year has begun. I remember as a child thinking that when the year 2000 arrived, I’d be 51 years old - impossibly old to my childish mind. Now 2000 has come and gone, and 51 seems wishfully young to my mind today.

Ever since our daughter was born on New Year’s Eve 32 years ago, we have never been much for celebrating New Year’s Eve because we’ve been too busy celebrating her birthday. This year is no exception. We are babysitting the grandgirls this weekend, and we remembered we had some leftover fireworks from earlier this year, and so we set those off in the backyard - much to the girls’ delight.

We watched “Mary Poppins” and now the girls are sound asleep - worn out from a full day of church, arts and crafts projects, cleaning the house, putting up Christmas decorations, playing with Jake, making homemade pizza and being together.

I refuse to make any resolutions this year. I tend to stick to them really well for awhile, and then life intrudes and the resolutions fall by the wayside.

In thinking about 2006, I thought I would write about each month of the past year - what I did, what I accomplished, what went on in my life. And, guess what? I can’t think of something specific for each month. Entire months with nothing to set them aside as “special” in my memory. I could go back through my blog and read about the things I did the past year. Since I averaged a couple posts each day of the last year, there should be plenty of material. However, is it significant if I can’t recall it without referring back to my blog?

So that’s my goal for this year. I will do something SIGNIFICANT each month this year - reach some milestone, do some kindness, make a difference, make a friend, make a change. On December 31, 2007, I want to look back on the year and know that I was worth it - that I made the world a better place and that the sacrifices people have made in order for me to have the life I live were not made in vain.

My brother, Terrell,  over at Alone on a Limb has re-told an exciting and frightening true family story - “Baptism By Water and Fire” - from my father’s childhood.  Terrell re-tells the story to commemorate today - the 20th anniversary of my father’s death.  It’s worth a trip over to read the story and see the old photos.  Thanks, Terry! 

I won’t write another lengthy post about today - the 20th anniversary of my father’s death - but instead I will point you toward’s last year’s post which was entitled “November 22nd, September 11th…and for me, December 3rd.”

If interested, you can also read the following posts about my father, a wonderful and great man:

May 21, 1919

The Twentieth Thanksgiving

Dreaming of Daddy

Monday Memory: Sitting Under Daddy’s Wing

A Poem for my Father