When I was growing up in rural West Virginia, what we now call Memorial Day was Decoration Day. A few days before, the family went to the community graveyard (no fancy names then) with mowing scythes, rakes and grass clippers. We’d tidy up all the family grave sites, clean the moss from the stones, and then work on any abandoned graves, try and remember who they were.
One of (Obama’s) promises, the one he is delivering on consistently, was to be pragmatic
We’re taking our second home, our little motorhome Turtle, to the high elevations of the Southwest in a week or so, to enjoy a month of moderate summer, before the monsoon begins in Tucson.
Whirrrrrr clunk clunk, gone. The melon sized rock, descending a French Alp at terminal velocity, would have taken my head off, had I not been fully attentive at that moment, and hugged vertical ice encrusted rock with the intensity of a lover.