Found My Dad's WWII Diary, Oct 1943 - Jan. 1945

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I have been wanting to put this up for relatives and friends to read if they so desire. This was written by hand in a tiny leather-bound tablet. GI's in WWII were really not supposed to keep a diary, but Daddy did anyway. I have typed it here just as it was written in the tablet. It is kind of long, but hope someone will find it interesting.

_________________

Sidi Ahamed, Africa

Bari, Italy

Gioia del Colle, Italy

            Having joined the Army Air Forces, October 28, 1942, and after training in San Antonio and Albuquerque, New Mexico, leaving the United States August 21, 1943, and now beginning this record October 1, 1943, I arrived in North Africa Sept. 4, 1943, and now beginning this record October 1, 1943, my nineteenth birthday:

Bizerte:

Fri. Oct. 1, 1943

           

The boys in the tent gave me 3 pks cigarettes, my only present. I played chuck buck & poker. Both games combined, I won about 7 bucks. I sent a postal money order to Mama, this 200 francs ($40). My day off is next Mon. Got a V-mail from Mama dated Sept. 16, ‘43.

Sat. Oct., 2, 1943

            Got up at 6 AM. Felt kind of sick all day. Got a V-mail from Mama dated 18th Sept. 43. Also a cable gram dated 24th Sept. Lost a buck & a half in a chuck-o-buck game and poker. Have guard tonite from 2 till 6 AM. Typed up Mama a V-mail and sent it.

Sun. Oct. 3, 1943

Stood guard this AM, sleepy as hell this morning. Wrote a letter to Willie this afternoon. Rumor has it that we will move soon. I have tomorrow off. I am going to Tunis soon. The name of this place is Sidi Ahamed. It’s 5 miles from Bizerte.

Mon. Oct. 4, 1943

Didn’t go to Tunis, felt bad. Had to get up early this morn to go to the latrine. Got a V-mail today date Sept. 20, 43. Got my first Caller-Times dated Sept. 22nd 43. Wrote Mama a V-mail tonite. Saw a show tonite but I had seen it before.

Tues. Oct. 5, 1943

Didn’t get any mail today. Looks as if we’ll be pulling out soon. HQ Sq. pulled out by plane this afternoon, don’t know where to, but I guess we’ll go to the same place.

Wed. Oct. 6, 1943

Wrote Mama a letter tonight but dated it the 7th. Got 2 V-mails, 1 written 21st & the other 22 Sept. 43. Saw a B-26 run off the runway today about 2 PM. Kind of mashed up. That made 2 B-26s in less than a hour that cracked up. Changed jobs today, took Tennessee’s place. PX day. Ate my 1st Baby Ruth in over 6 weeks. Had 2 shots today, small pox & typhoid. Thought I lost 100 Francs in PX line.

Fri. Oct. 29, 1943

Supply & HQ are in Italy. True love. Zillmer & I went to Tunis. Sure is nasty. We went off the alert. We got quite a stay here. We have a floor in our tent now. Built it last May. Still working for Clark. Got 3 V-mails today. All from Mama, dated 14, 16, & 17th Oct. 43. Yesterday had 2nds at PX. Wrote & mailed Jessie’s letter for the 2nd time this afternoon. Wrote Mama a letter this PM and will mail tomorrow. Hope we get paid Sunday. Rained like hell during chow. Thundering & lightning now. Muddy as hell outside.

Mon. Nov. 8, 1943

This is the worst day we have had since being in North Africa. Rains off and on & the winds blowing like hell. I got a letter from Mom dated the 14th Sept. & one from Dorothy Hoskins dated the 21st of Oct. In Mama’s letter there was a silver bracelet, I am very happy.

Thurs. Nov. 11, 1943

Send home 20 bucks this morning. 2 V-mails from Mama. I Air Mail from Sis. Mailed a letter to Ruby Lee Pair. Sea Hawk showed in the Mess Hall tonite.

Sun. Nov. 14, 1943

Everybody has today off. Had fried chicken for dinner today. My first in a hell of a long time. Washed up my socks and white stuff. No mail in several days. The Fighting 69th was on Fri. nite and Perry of the Planes was on last nite. Today was a dam nice day. Guess I have to read the Stars & Stripes, it just came in. Took in 3 pictures today. Saw “I Dood It” at the Mess Tent.

Tues. Nov. 16, 1943

I am guard tonite. 1st relief. 6 till 10. Still no mail since the 11th. Took a shot last nite. Also signed the payroll. Some more of the boys left today in the 17.

Wed. Nov. 17, 1943

Clark made Tech today. I guess he’ll be hard to get along with. It doesn’t look I’ll even made anything. Saw a show in the Mess Tent. No mail today. Said it has been going to Italy. PX Day today. My first Baby Ruth in weeks. Got 4 pks of good cigs for a change. Zillner on guard, 2nd relief.

Thurs. Nov. 18, 1943

Still no mail. Made office bigger. Got 2 more pks cigs & another pk of gum from PX today. Saw Virginia City in the Mess Tent.

Wed. Nov. 24, 1943

Tomorrow’s Thanksgiving. 21 turkeys. Got 3 letters yesterday and 3 tonite. Changed jobs yesterday, am back with ??? place. Went to the show last and tonite in the Mess Tent. It’s rumored President Roosevelt was in Tunis & Oran with some high German official. Some of the boys say they saw him in both places. This has been going around for a week now.

Tues. Nov. 25, 1943

Today is Thanksgiving. For dinner we had turkey, dressing, cranberries, gravy, peas, corn, beans, butter (real), candy, cake, pie, coffee, and an orange. They gave us a pk of cigs, box of candy, cigar. No mail at noon.

Tues. Nov. 30, 1943

I got some mail in the eve of the 25th. We quit work in the shop Fri. We moved out of our grounds where we had been camped since Sept. 9. Last Sun, at about 1 PM, went on board a LCT at the naval base in Bizerte lake. Stayed on the Ship in dock from Sun. eve till Tues. morn (today). We are going to Italy. Somewhere in the step of the boot, I think. This kind of craft is quite rough. I may get seasick. I hope I saw N Africa today for the last time. I believe we will end up in Bari Italy.

Wed. Dec. 7, 1943

The sea was kind of rough all day. The Island of Malta was on the starboard side all day. Felt kind of bad late this eve, but didn’t heave.

Thurs. Dec. 2, 1943

When we awoke this morn both Sicily & the Toe of Italy were on the port side a long way off. 10 o’clock now and the Toe is visible. There is a rather high mountain to be seen, looks pretty. The sea is OK this morning.

Sun Dec. 5, 1943

We are now at Bari, Italy. We got to Taranto, Italy on the 3rd, but we didn’t get off the boat till yesterday, the 4th, 3 months to the day that we got to N Africa. We came from Taranto to  Bari by truck. We got here yesterday eve. They had a big raid on the 2nd. Glass was in piles all over town. We had an alert yesterday eve late, but nothing came of it. We could get one tonite, the moon is right.

Bari, Dec 13, 1943 (Mon.)

Had an air raid tonite about 6:30. A lot of flares were dropped. A few fell in our area. We also had a raid on the 10th. We have had several alerts since getting to Bari on the 5th of Dec. They had a big raid Fri. the 3rd before we got here. 15 ships were sunk. An ammunition ship blew up. ???? says he feels as if the planes will be back tonite. (To hell with the bombs, I am going to bed.)

Gioia, Jan 2, 1944

We moved here from Bari, Dec 19, 1943. We have been living in barracks ever since we got here. We moved to a new set last week. We have had no air raids or alerts since moving here. The town is about a half mile walk north of the air drome.

Gioia del Colle, Mon. Jan 24, 1944

Today was my first day off. Went to town. Remember the 2nd 11th of Jan. They say I am going in Cpl the 1st of Feb. Hope I make it for Mama’s sake. The bomb group moved in last week. There’s a chance of a raid again now. The weather sure has been nice here for the past 2 weeks.

Wed. Feb. 9, 1944

2 days ago we had a nice snow. Last  nite I got a fountain pen from Sis & Ray. A Parker.

Wed. Feb. 17, 1944

It snowed pretty heavy this morning. It was all gone by this afternoon. Got a V-mail from Willie Schumacher last nite. Somewhere in England. I was counting on him coming here.

Sun Feb. 20, 1944

Went on guard last nite at 10 PM and got off at 2 AM this morning. Caught a cold during this shift. Had guard from 8 till 10 AM and from 2 till 4 PM. Feeling kind of bad this eve. Went to church tonite in the Mess Hall. Heard somebody from the office was up for a rating. Rumor has it we’re going home soon.

Feb. 21, 1944

Went back to work today. Still have my cold. 6 months ago today we left New York City and the States. The ground is kind of muddy yet. Wrote Sis and Ray a letter. Tomorrow is off from work for me. Bought a pistol last night, 16 bucks. Let a guy take it over to the 88th.

Gioia del Colle, Feb. 23, 1944

I was off today. Slept late. Got my fountain pen back from Mama. Think we will be leaving here soon.

Mon. Feb. 28, 1944

We have been restricted to the camp since last Fri. Fleas. Got a shave today, also a hair cut. I feel sick dam it. I bumped into the same wall twice last week, one nite after the other. I had a headache this afternoon.

Sun, 5 Mar 44

On guard today.

Tues. 21 Mar 44

On guard.

Fri. 24 Mar 44

The ground was white this morning. It also snowed yesterday morning.

Tues. 28 Mar 44

It snowed just a nice bit this morning. High wind for the last 2 days and cold as hell. It rained mud last week from Mount Vesuvius. The ash is still falling but it’s not so bad now. The ground is a hell of a lot blacker. Went to the show in Gioia tonite. Bob Hope in “They Got Me Covered.” Got a new DSN today 405. Typist Clerk.

Sun Apr 2, 1944

Took a roll of film today.

Sun Apr 9, 1944

Was on guard yesterday. Had my first cake since being overseas. Got our Bronze Star today.

Wed April 12, 1944

Early this morning 12:15 am, we had an air alert. I guess what I hear is true. The Jerries are trying to get this field. They have moved in AA guns, installed air raid sirens, and you now have to wear your steel helmets on guard. They even spread out the ships tonite. Yep, looks as if we might have a little trouble around here.

Thurs. April 13, 1944

A big list of ratings came out this morn. No use lying. I thought sure as hell I’d be on it. I know I was up for Cpl. My buddy Tus made Sg tho.

Sun Apr 23, 1944

Just got off guard this afternoon, tired & sleepy as hell. I understand we won’t have Sundays off anymore. From now on we go to the rest camp 3 days every 6 weeks. I guess the bomb group being here has something to do with that.

Sun April 30, 1944

This morning about 5:00 o’clock, the 464th Bomb Group left this field for their first mission, somewhere in Europe. On the way to the target, they encountered no opposition what so ever. When they returned in the afternoon, not a bomb had been dropped. What happened is not so clear to me, but the account I got was something like this: As the formation began the bomb run, the leader developed a leak in his oxygen system and failed to release his bombs. The rest, as they saw no bombs fall, did not drop theirs either. As they swung out on the run, and over the harbor, there were two ships below, yet still no eggs were laid. They then came home and didn’t run into any flak on the whole trip. Someone sure got an eating out, I heard. I have seen two Bomb Groups come and go at this field and both got took down a notch or two.

Tues. May 2, 1944

This morning about eight, 39 bombers went out. There seemed to have been another ball up somewhere. Only half the planes dropped their bombs. One forgot to open his bomb bay. From this raid, two aircraft are missing.

Mon. May 8, 1944

Had an alert at noon today and also tonite at 10:30. Must have been some Jerry planes over Bari.

Wed, May 10, 1944

On guard today, 2nd relief.

Thurs. May 11, 1944

This eve, during chow, we had an alert & had to get our helmet, gas mask, and gun. The planes were said to be 30 miles away. However, they didn’t come over. I guess they got stopped.

Mon. May 15, 1944

They shot down 2 planes -- last Thursday. I just heard today.

Thurs. May 18, 1944

PX tonite. Serviced planes last nite till midnite. They went on another raid this morning. None missing.

Tues. May 30, 1944

A little fireworks over Bari last nite. Had an alert here.

Sun. June 4, 1944

Went on a little trip this morning, a sort of sightseeing. Went to Naci, Putignans, Castellana, Monopoli, Polignans, and Bari, and home to Gioia.

Tues. June 6, 1944

Early this morning about 8, heard the long awaited day had come. We are doing well in Italy. One of our officers sighted the largest convoy he’d ever seen while flying from Africa to Italy. They will invade from Italy to France someplace.

10:50 PM Sat June 17, 1944

There are a lot of lights, spot lights over Bari right now and some flashes. Maybe they are having a raid.

Tues. June 27, 1944

Dam if I don’t think I am going crazy. Time sure is getting heavy on me. Just the same old thing day in and day out. Maybe I can make it. I just wonder when they are going to invade in Northern Italy behind the Germans.

Sat. 22 July 1944

Two days ago, 3 Germans escaped from the stockade and they were caught in the 88th area. That was last Wed. I had to stand guard from 12 till 3 AM Thurs. morning. Yesterday, Fri. about 1:15 PM the Mess Hall caught fire. While the fire was being put out, an air raid alert sounded. About 15 minutes later the all clear sounded and the fire was put out. This afternoon at 4:30 a plane just returning from a combat mission with one engine feathered, crash landed. No one was hurt too bad but the ship is a job for the salvage crew. Yesterday, 11 months ago, we left New York.

Sun 24 Sept. 44

Went to Bari yesterday to see the stage play, “The Barretts of Wimpole Street.” Didn’t see all of it because we had a seat in the back of the theater and couldn’t hear what was being said; that was yesterday. This morning Siebs and I went to the “Green House.” This afternoon General Beverly gave Col Seid the Bronze Star. He said we had received 800 planes, transit planes, and serviced them. The Col said we would be here at Gioia for the next nine months. We should leave this spot by June of 1945.

Tues. Sept. 26, 1944

Winter and the rainy season have already set in. Coldest this morning than it’s been all year.  Had big rain yesterday at noon. Looks like rain now. It did rain.

Fri. Sept. 29, 1944

Rain....

Sat. Sept. 20, 1944

Rain.

Sun. Oct. 1, 1944

Rain. Today is my birthday just like any other day. It rained all day. Changed to ODs today.

Wed. Oct. 18, 1944

On Sun Oct. 15 went on pass down to the Toe of Italy to Cosenza. Arrived there 5:30 PM Sun evening. Stayed Mon., Tues., and left Wed 18 Oct. at 9:30 AM for Gioia. Arrived at Gioia at 2:15 PM Oct. 18, 44. Cosenza is 150 miles away. Had a very nice time.

Fri. Oct. 20, 1944

Rained all last nite and today at noon it is a little cooler than yesterday. To feel good outside, one must wear a coat.

Fri. Oct. 27, 1944

Seibs and I rented the room in town tonite. Two rooms, 20 bucks a month. The no. is 90 on the Taranto Hiway.

Tues. Oct. 31, 1944

Paid up rent of month of Nov. tonite.

Thurs. Dec 21, 1946

Returned from San Spirito Rest Camp this afternoon about 3:30 PM. Seibs, Halbert, and I left for Rest Camp last Sat morn 16 Dec at 9:00 in the morning. While we were there we rented bicycles. Halbert fell and cut his nose, had to have two stitches taken in his nose. Also went up to Molfetta third day we were there. Got the best I’ve had in Italy Tues. at Biniti right across the hiway from the Rest Camp.

Thurs. 28 Dec 44

Ice this morning.

Fri. 29 Dec 44

Ice this morning, too.

Mon. January 1, 1945

Stayed  up until midnite last nite to see the New Year in. Got just a little tight. There was a little fight in the club at about 12:30 AM. When I went to bed it was snowing. When I awoke the ground was white. The snow was almost gone by dark tonite. It is snowing outside now, 8:30 PM.

Tues., Jan 2, 1945

About 2 inches of snow on the ground this morning. It took turns, snowing, hailing, and raining all morning. It’s raining now. God what a country!

Thurs. Jan 11, 1945

Started snowing last nite. Was three inches deep this morning. It stayed with us all day -- Tonite at about 5 PM they threw a line all the way around the field. Cy and I were on the north side. Had to fall out in full field equipment. They are expecting trouble from the Eyties. Intelligence reports they are going to burn the town hall in Gioia tomorrow. We are subject to call at any time and must fall in at our assigned spot in the line. In case of an alert, Cy and I have about 400 yds to run. -- I think 90% of the men hope trouble comes. They have a pent up feeling against these sons of bitches. So have I.

Jan 18, 1945

Went on sick call this morning. Was sent to the 41st ADG Hospital in Gioia. Will stay here all nite and go to 26 General Hospital tomorrow morning.

Jan. 19, 1945

Arrived 26 General Hospital this morning. Checked in at 2 AM.

Jan. 22, 1945

Was snowing this morning when I awoke. Am going back to the squadron today or tomorrow.

Jan 25, 1945

Got back from 26 General Hospital this afternoon.

Writing Through the Middle

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I’ve forgotten how hard it is to write through the vast, uncharted wilderness of the middle of a novel. Beginnings are fairly easy, once you get started. There’s the anticipation of discovery, the excitement of creating, those emotions alone will get you well through the beginning. I’ve read a lot of incomplete, and often unpublished, manuscripts with killer beginnings. They’re polished, compelling, full of promise, but the writer never gets past the opening few chapters. 

Endings are the next easiest. The threads of the story start to twine together. You know right where you’re going, or if you write like I do, you know the ending when you get there. It just feels right, that last sentence or scene, the closing of the action, the change in the characters. And what a terrific feeling it is to write THE END.  Fait accompli. Task completed. Hooray!

But oh, the damned middle….

Is the pacing too slow? Too fast? Do you really need that second love scene, that bit of period detail, the elaborate description of that sunset? Are you repeating yourself? Has this or that character flaw already been well-established? Is this thing really necessary, or that thing moving the plot along? You begin to question everything. Doubt takes hold. And what is the point of this stupid story anyway?

It’s easy to give up at the middle. I’ll bet there have been many fine novels abandoned in the middle. I have a few in my file cabinet, where in the middle I began to feel as if I had been wasting paper and ink on an incohesive, implausible story idea. And just stopped. Sometimes forever.

So do you soldier on? Or is there another way to grab this bull and throw it? Am I mixing metaphors? Sliding into cliché? Have I suddenly realized with purity that I just can’t write? At all. Every sentence begins with “he” or “she” or the dialogue goes on for eternity. What the hell is the purpose of this  chapter anyway? Maybe I should just cut out the whole dreadful thing.

My first novel – (before I go on I want to qualify that phrase. It wasn’t my “first” first novel, it was just the first one that got published. The others are moldering in my attic.) – which ended up with the title of LILY, came to me after spending an entire day reading microfilm at the Bastrop library. I was interested in finding out what had happened at a grand jury hearing back in 1883. I had a scalding headache by the time I drove myself back home. But that night I wrote the first chapter. The next day, I got up and wrote the pivotal scene in the center of the book, the one that the story would turn on, and I wrote from there to the end. Then when I had that much, I went back to the end of that first chapter, and wrote from the second chapter to the pivotal scene. I didn’t know what the chapter number would be for that pivotal scene when I wrote it, nor did I know this for the subsequent chapters that propelled the story to the end. There was much to discover in writing the story backwards. I didn’t know any better. It had not come to me yet that this was no way to write a novel. The other three novels were written from Chapter 1 to the end, in linear fashion. But maybe, just maybe, I was onto something with LILY.

Some writers plot and outline, or write synopses of varying lengths, then flesh out the bones from there. I can definitely see the benefit of this, particularly with mysteries or thrillers. But for me, and for the kind of novels I like to write, this would spoil the fun of writing the thing.

Wait a minute! Did I just say “fun?” This is supposed to be FUN! Wow! Somewhere along the line I think I have forgotten about fun. Creating a story that will be fun for someone to read, should be fun to write. Shouldn’t it? I’ve heard the phrase “open a vein and bleed.” I don’t remember who said it but it was some famous writer. However, I don’t write that sort of book. Mine are not painful to write or read. I don’t want to write that sort of book and I don’t want to read that sort of book either. When I started this writing quest thirty-five years ago, I vowed to write the sort of book that I would want to read myself. But of course, what I didn’t count on was how self-critical I would become along the way.

Which gets me back to the damned middle. In workshops I’ve taught, I have always told my students to give themselves permission to write a poor first draft. Because the “real” writing is in the re-writing. And I know that this is a true statement. So why is it that I have such a hard time taking my own advice? Maybe the answer lies in the middle.

Onward….

A Non-Partisan Look at Campaign Reform

 As a student of the American political system over the last forty-five years, and as a behind-the-scenes elections official, I have seen the dissolution of the integrity of the people who choose to run for office. It seems to me that if we want better choices, and a more true democracy, an eyes-wide look at the way we elect our officials must be done first.

Everyone who pays even the slightest attention knows there’s too much money involved in the elections of our officials. It costs thousands of dollars just to run for sheriff in a small county. I know personally of a judge whose campaign cost him $157,000 in a county of about 35,000 voters. 

The yard signs, the push cards, the television ad (especially the television ads), the radio ads, the block-walkers and call centers – all of these things cost a lot of money. And studies have shown that the more name familiarity a candidate has the more likely they will win their election. Therefore it is imperative that a candidate raises enough money to pay for the necessary name recognition. Here is where the donor comes into the picture.  If it’s a big donor, and that donor has an agenda that will gain him favor -- say , a road contractor who wants first bid to re-construct the old bridge leading into town -- it’s possible that big donation he makes to a county commissioner’s campaign might give him an advantage.

Now, take that local example, and enlarge it,  in the case of candidates running for federal offices, by a hundred times, and you begin to understand the stakes that are at play when a big donor contributes to the campaign of a candidate for U.S. Senator. Herein lies the primary reason why the little guy – that’s you and me – doesn’t believe that those people we elect are working for us. Because, frankly, they aren’t. They go into office beholden from the outset to their big donors.

The honest politician (yes, I know, the word has become an oxymoron) probably arrives in Washington, D.C. with grand ideas about how he is going to help his constituents, or how he’s going to shake-up the system. But it might have cost him millions to get elected, and those billionaire-donors are going to expect to have some kind of return on their funding dollars. So naturally they start to call in their favors: Easing of regulations, tax credits for their business interest, loosening of trade laws, and on and on. And to make matters worse, a junior senator or representative is expected to continue to raise money after they’re in office, with up to 30 hours a week of time logged calling on rich donors for contributions to the new office holder’s party.  They actually have log-sheets they must keep.

This is the system that is killing our Democracy. It’s the reason there’s gridlock in Congress. It’s the reason your government isn’t working for you. Unless, of course, you happen to be a billionaire, or own a huge money making corporation. If you think I’m making this up, just think about it the next time you want to find a new Internet provider and realize that your list of possible choices has shrunk, or when you write that ever-increasing check to your health insurance provider, or pay all those unexplainable add-ons to your phone bill.

Politicians are not going to change this system. It’s what got them elected. Overturning the inequitable Citizens United ruling by the Supreme Court won’t solve it. Revamping the Dodd-Frank Campaign Finance Reform bill won’t solve the problem either. It’s really not about so-called “dark money” or “corporate rights.” What’s the matter is the way we elect our officials, and this needs a complete overhaul.

Here are six of my ideas for ways to truly reform our election process:

1.                    – Make it illegal to lobby lawmakers. Yes, illegal. Do away completely with the lobby groups and a lot of the problem will end right there. I once read that the pharmacy lobby, Pharmco, hires 26 lobbyists for each member of Congress. No wonder we pay more for prescription drugs than any other country in the world.

2.                    – Make it law that campaigns for any political office can last no more than 90 days. The endless campaigns that we now have cost billions of dollars. If a candidate cannot get their message out in 90 days, two more years isn’t going to help them. All this extensive campaigning does is make the voter tune out. Ninety days is long enough for all of us. Most of us had made our choice in the current political election within three months. So let’s put a cap on it at 90 days.

3.                    – Require the TV networks and cable news channels to conduct, free of charge, three Town Hall style meetings of candidates, loosely moderated, with questions coming uncensored from the audience. This would eliminate the expensive television ads that are mostly negative and also make the voter weary of the whole process. As a side note: a 20 second ad on a national network during Prime Time can cost as much as 3-million dollars. No wonder election costs are climbing into the billions during every election season.

4.                    – Require all taxpayers to contribute one dollar of their tax bill to a central fund distributed equally among the candidates to pay for their signage, their headquarters, phone banks, et cetera. Make it illegal for any outside money to be used for campaign costs.

5.                    – Make election laws universal throughout the United States, so that every state, and every county within a state, votes and conducts their elections according to a uniform Federal Election Standard.

6.                    – Make voter registration mandatory at age 18, the same way that registering for the Draft used to be mandatory for young men on their 18^th birthday.

These kinds of changes don’t come from Washington. If you live long enough, you realize not much ever comes from the top down. Change happens when there’s a groundswell from people who have finally had enough. We need to be informed and vocal, but most of all, we need to understand what’s at the core of the problems with our government.

Onward….

The Longest Four Months

I can’t think of a time in my life when four months have taken longer, except maybe for when I was pregnant, or when I was waiting for my first novel to appear in the bookstores. But aside from those times, the four months between when I tendered my resignation to the County Judge and now have been endless. First there was the search for my replacement. Then there was the pleading for me to stay on long enough to train her. Well, I knew there was no way I could train her in four or five weeks, and sure enough, I have two more weeks to go, and she’s not trained, and really won’t be trained until she has a few elections under her belt. Even then there will be more and more for her to learn. (Are you reading this, Blanca?) It is a challenging job, and I gave it a lot of sweat and tears and worry and thought, and now I’m almost out the door, and the days are creeping by.

When I agreed to stay on, I made a deal to work no more than 27 hours a week, and they are paying me pretty well to do this, but it has only given me a taste of what the days will be like when they belong to me again. I have to work my hours in and not exceed the magic number, 27, so I often go in late in the morning. This allows me some serene time in my yard, drinking coffee, keeping an eye on Sam as he wanders and plays in the gardens, and to read. Oh wonder of wonders, to actually read again. To have time for that and a mind that is free enough to enjoy and comprehend the construction and development involved in writing a good book. I have been devouring books during this time of training, one after the other. Books I’ve saved up for when I had time again, and that is soon to be NOW.

And I’m longing to write. I want to dive in and finish the “Unfinished  Novel,” and start on new projects, too. I want to write articles, I have ideas, so many stories to explore before my mind gets too feeble to do all of this. Gee, I hope that doesn’t happen soon, if it has to happen at all.

I’m reading a wonderful, poignant novel right now by Cathleen Schine, called THEY MAY NOT MEAN TO, BUT THEY DO. It’s about family dynamics, the aging of one generation, the caretaker guilt of another, the coming of age of a third. Very well done. I can hardly put it down, but then, that’s my kind of story, the interaction of people who love one another, why we do the things we do to and for each other.

However, once this job ends, I am well aware that I will have a transition time, and I’m preparing myself for that, to be able to let go. I know my personality, and I’m a control-freak, too detail-oriented, magnetized by any challenge. My replacement will learn to do the job her way, and I will be OK with that, I am OK with it already. It has been good for me in so many ways, this job, and if I had found it at a younger age, before I took the writing leap, I would probably have made it a career. I know I will miss the bi-weekly paycheck. There is something to be said for bi-weekly money, even though I always felt I was sorely underpaid. But I will find a way forward. I almost always have. And I’m confident, and really ready for this long four months to finally end.

Onward….

US AGAINST THEM

When did we get to where we can’t talk anymore, or have reasonable discussions about anything? The only time people will converse anymore is when they agree in every detail with the person they’re having a conversation with, and anyone who doesn’t agree has horns and a forked tail. Everybody has OPINIONS and their OPINION is the only one that’s valid. If you don’t agree, or maybe have a different opinion, then you’re slimy scum and don’t deserve to be treated with respect or decency.  Do we not have time anymore to be polite? Is it just too much trouble to be kind, to temper your words or comments? Has our society become so self-centered that we don’t care when we hurt someone’s feelings? And if that’s so, how will we ever be able to come together in peace and with love again? Am I the only one who finds this distressing? Does anybody have a solution? Does a solution even exist?

It’s kind of like trying to keep a marriage together when only one person is making all the effort. Society is just too big and unruly, and we have gone wrong somewhere along the line. Please don’t say the answer is religion, because I know people who quote scripture and appear in church every week, who are just as snarky, just as mean-spirited, and just as judgmental as anybody else. In fact, it sometimes seems that the church-people have a superior attitude about things simply because they DO attend church and believe they have all the answers.

One of the problems is that we are so blasted with opinion from the talking heads on television, or anyway, it seems to have started with that, the 24-hour cable news channel. There just isn’t enough news to warrant 24-hours of it so they fill the time with pundits, panel discussions, and over-coverage of events that should only take a few minutes. The 24-hour cable news channels in essence TELL us what to care about by the way they cover events and incidents, and chose what news we get to see and what gets ignored. People who watch these endless news channels end up angry and in-your-face on every issue.

The other problem is social media, where snarky one-liners rule the day. Everybody is trying to one-up the other guy, be just a little more clever with their turn of phrase than the last person who posted. Wittiness devolves into meanness and insult, and on and on until you shut down your computer with your blood boiling hot. 

The Golden Rule doesn't seem to exist anymore. But I cannot believe--I will not believe--that there is anybody out there who actually enjoys being insulted and bitch-slapped with words every time they try to have a meaningful discussion about anything important. So why don't we try to be nicer to each other? Why don't we try to find out why the other person feels the way they do about a thing, instead of just throwing out insults? Or why don't we try to have a thoughtful discussion without it turning into a hollering match? I find myself silenced most of the time by dread of confrontation. And the end result of that is either disengagement or meaningless small talk. 

People have become so tribal and all those tribes have declared all-out war on each other: the tribe of freethinkers, the tribe of religion, the pro-choice tribe, the pro-life tribe, the gay-rights tribe, the Christian-rights tribe, the gun-rights tribe, the gun-control tribe, and on and on, until it's just heartbreaking. The feeling is the only tribe that has a right to exist is the one you belong to. It makes for an uneasy, us-against-them, world. 

Maybe the only solution is to tune out the noise. To get quiet with yourself. To go fishing. I don't know. I just wish people could be a little kinder to each other and treat each other with a little more respect. 

Onward….

THE TRIALS AND TRIBULATIONS OF A GARDEN…OH, AND ALSO THE JOY

When we lived in the mountains, I kept trying to grow tomatoes. I grew them in two rolling planters that had cages mounted inside them. I tried that old standby Early Girl, for fast tomatoes, and a slower cherry tomato variety. I had limited luck. For one thing, the growing season begins there around May 20^th and ends about August 31^st – way too short of a season for most tomato varieties. The other problem was the cool (make that cold) nights spanning all the way through the summer. And finally, the air was thin, which made it hard for the plants (and me) to breathe. All of these conditions were not conducive to gardening, and how I missed it.

I have a gardening gene. Maybe it comes from my farmer ancestors. Daddy gardened until the day he died. And I believe that his mother did as well. The crepe myrtles and althea that grew around the house where I lived during my childhood were planted by Daddy’s mother. She had grown them from cuttings she started in coffee cans. She cut out the bottoms of the cans, and planted them, can and all, between the windows in our house. The coffee cans eventually rusted away, giving the plants a good foundation of iron, something most flowering bushes need to flouish. I wonder if she knew this when she planted them that way or if it was a happy accident resulting from her economical, old-fashioned ways. At any rate, those crepe myrtles and the althea were huge by the time we moved away.

When I was a child, I planted a handful of radish seeds in the flower bed next to Granny’s bushes. Daddy had tomatoes, Swiss chard, and banana peppers growing there, too. Every day I went out to check the radish seeds. To my child’s mind, it seemed like forever before they finally sprouted. I took great joy in pulling up the mature radishes. I don’t remember eating them, just growing them, watering them, and scolding my dog when he tried to dig near where they were planted.

Now, that we are back in Texas, with the long, warm growing seasons, I plant my seeds inside in December. I take great pleasure in thumbing through all the seed catalogs that fill up the mailbox every Fall. The first year we were back, I bought way too many seeds, and nearly every one sprouted and grew into a plants. I mostly wanted tomatoes and they came up generously in the egg carton halves I use to hold my seedling mix. I was so delighted with this success, I could barely bring myself to thin the baby plants. I nursed them inside until they were big enough to re-pot and plant in the greenhouse outside. Finally in March, I moved them into the raised garden beds Wayne built for me in the sunshine.

They thrived through the nice wet spring, bloomed and dropped blooms, until I started spraying them with blossom set, tending to each fragile yellow bloom that appeared. It worked. I had a bumper crop of tomatoes that first year. And then the birds discovered that ripening tomatoes tasted like candy. The mockingbirds were the worst of the bunch, and the sneakiest. We put up bird netting, which worked until the plants began to grow through the tiny holes, then mattied underneath it. Pretty soon my tomato patch was a hopelessly tangled mess. But by then, I had okra to tend, and those plants soon became trees, towering over the garden. I needed a ladder to harvest all the okra hidden in the branches.

Year Two brought more of the same, except I chose to pick the tomatoes at first blush and ripen them inside, rather than fight with the birds. However,  Mother Nature sent me something new to contend with, a Tropical Storm named Bob. He blew over most of the tomatoes and broke the pepper plants in half. This year we are dealing with insufferable heat, indices in the 105 to 115 degree range. We’ve had so many tomatoes, we’re plain sick of eating them. I have given bags and bags away, and now they’re rotting in the fridge. I have peas and blackberries and figs in the freezer. And so many green beans, we turned green ourselves just thinking about them. Last night I microwaved a bag of Brussel sprouts from the grocery store, the first time we haven’t eaten from this garden since March. I miss the mountain summers.

When it’s 100 degrees outside, the garden is too much work. Yesterday I found myself looking out the den windows with binoculars to see if the okra really needs to be picked, or if it can stand one more brutal day. Stepping out the door is like entering a sauna. Watering every day is drudgery. I think I’m done with gardening. But of course when Fall arrives, I know I'll once again thumb through catalogs and buy too many seeds for next year. I can’t help myself. It’s in my blood.

Onward….