Biographies

  
  Erika:  She was the youngest of 7, 4 males, 3 females.  She lived with her Mother, Grandmother of mine, for all of Grandmother's life. This was mainly due to them living in the eastern part of my home country, which was after WWII occupied by Russia and under Communist dictatorship.  Life was hard and little choices existed.  They were fortunate to have their home, a 4 story apartment house, which belonged to my Grandparents.  It was old fashioned, toilets outside the apartment in the hous'es stairwells, the kitchen had running cold water, but into an oval shaped metal sink, which you would nowadays find in maybe some public outdoor bathrooms.  Water had to be heated on the gas stove or coal stove.  And dishes had to be washed in a bowl that was sunk into a cut-out of the drawer of a kitchen table. The sink was too small to put a dish-washing bowl into. But the house had a large garden in back, with some side buildings that were storage places or a little work shop for the owner to make home repairs.  The garden consisted mainly of grass area and apple and fruit trees. One small section on one of the sides of the house contained a small plot for parsley and some other herbs, and the house wall was covered with vines that had good tasting grapes on them in the summer time.  Also, there was one "dangerous" section, the dung pit. An open pit that contained garbage and rain water, which eventually would turn into fertilizer for the yard.  It usually was covered with a slimy green substance, and a child was warned not to get near it. It was deep enough for a child to drown in it.
The apartment usually smelled of apples, as Grandmother stored her apples on top of a big cupboard of the bedroom.

After WWII nothing much changed, since there's  were no materials available to do any repairs not until nearly 2 decades later. 
But it was home to Erika and Grandmother.  It was their way of life, and they were used to it.

Erika worked in a nearby factory in the office, because she was considered very well educated - only 8 years of grade school,  in the mid 19hundred-teens, and she had learned and read and studied on her own, and worked early as a young woman, learning about doing office work and book keeping. It was called an apprenticeship. 

She was a vivacious person, with an enormous sense of humor.  When I visited her as a child with my mother, my Dad, who was her brother, never made it, because he was running his newly founded machine shop in the western part of the country, I always loved the stories she told me, all made up, the dancing she did for me, and which she liked to teach me also, with both of us hopping around the kitchen or living room area. I particularly loved it when she wound up the old phonograph, and we danced to the music of those old tunes right there in the big, square, wooden board covered hallway.  Grandma would often scold us for being so silly.  

It was especially grand when I could accompany her, when I was about 6, to her work site; it was in walking distance, by their standards, not ours today, and then I would walk home alone. In the late afternoon I would walk there again to pick her up, or sometimes already meet her halfway home. 

When I was about 11/12 I visited her and Grandmother with a friend from my home town, who went to visit friends of hers in the same city. I stayed with my aunt and Grandmother, the friend lady stayed with her family.  We had gone there to avoid the air raids in our western city, while my parents and her family held the fort back there.  During that time with my aunt she took me to my first ever theater performance, a children's story, and I was so enthralled by the scenery that showed a night scene, with a big moon and stars, and some children floating in the space around those orbs.  

Erika also had a great knack for acting and would often act out imaginary scenes for her Mom and me.  We were the audience.  She had a wonderful memory and could recite poems which she incorporated into her stories she enacted.  

The time she visited my family in our home after the war, I loved it when she put me to bed, because she would always tell stories. Or if she knew I had to memorize a poem for class, she would sit on the edge of the bed and drill me into the memorization, in which she was so much better than I.  But I would remember the poem at least long enough for the next day's school and reciting.

Erika also loved to do manicure for  my Dad's work worn nails and my nails.  As  I later realized, all those talents indicated an artistic streak in her, which in a different time and world might have her even gotten into the world of theater arts.  But in her times that was not possible.

In years after the war she met her husband and  married.  She had one son, and he inherited all those wonderful traits from his mother and a lot of his father's mathematical talent.  In fact, he eventually was called to study in   a Russian University because of his intellect. But, his great loves always were the arts.  He wrote skits and short stories, some with a "Drunk". being the main character. He would go to different parts of the city where he acted out the part of the drunk, and his friend, the cinematographer,  would tape it.. Eventually he would edit it into a short movie and show it in some movie  houses.

Yes, the memories of Erika are great and I always consider her my favorite aunt, simply because she was younger than all other family, and she had the chance to be my "play mate" so often, while all other aunts and uncles were adults and married and had children of their own, some my age.  I loved them, but they were not my play mates....

Campaign

The presidential campaign ion 2016 is the ugliest ever.  Never have I heard or read of any candidate as vulgar, aggressive, twisting facts, ignorant of facts, egotistical, and power-hungry, as I have of D.T.

He reminds me in his speeches so much of Hitler who bamboozled so many with his rousing speeches, talks of greatness for Germany, without regard to reality.
 And just as Hitler, D.T. is truly a rabble-rouser, bringing  out the worst in those people who already lean toward nastiness and violence. If he is elected, it will be the first time that I will have no respect for the President and the office he holds. And if he believes that bullying other nations the way he bullies his opponents now, will work, he is in error. He might just, though, make us an enemy of many of those countries.
To make a country great via his ideas only will make it decline in reputation.  And if he means greatness in wealth and money acquisition-  even that won't work, because we need the rest of the world to trade and deal with to gain wealth.

However, D.T. does in a way represent the moral values that the US for some decades now aspired. People believe the Constitution gives them the right to be, do, speak and act as they want to, with no restraints in actions and morality.  That is not how the Constitution  was meant to be.

And at the end, any country that loses its morality will eventually decline.  History has proven this over and over again.
Yet, something no one talks about is the fact that not only each person, but also each country eventually has to face the Lord and account for its actions.  We truly should fear that.

America Today in 2015 and 2019

We have imported, to my exasperation, the trinity threats of IS,Taliban and insurgency into a great part of our Congress.

Of course, being honorable people, we do not use guns, explosives and swords to cut off heads. We use the more genteel weapon of bullying.

Schools all across this country are horrified when children suffer under bullying tactics and attempt to come up with deterrents and rules curtailing and punishing such behaviors.

Not so the Congressional members. They elevated their bullying to such levels that the “slogan” loving public adopted these tactics, chewing them up voraciously and regurgitating them without any personal thought processes. Less is even their knowledge of background or history which apply to facts. For instance – with relish the public and their congressional 'guides' talk of our President as weak. Yet, no one remembers that on the day of his initial election in 2008, before he ever set foot into the White House and did his first official job, Republicans promised they would vote against anything the President would present to Congress. It takes enormous strength for any person to persevere under such conditions for two terms. Weak – no.

Another slogan repeated by the same crowd: The foreign world has no respect for him.

Yet these same people do not even know the man on the street in other countries. They don't talk to foreigners, don't read foreign press. They don't even know that those people often are more informed about this country's politics than the American citizens. There is no lack of respect for our President, but there is for our Congress. I have been asked the question, why do we tolerate such behavior. My answer is because the people are so gullible they allow leaders to do the thinking for them.

These foreigners are as frustrated as I am about the difficulties we present toward fighting a common foe outside our borders, and at bringing about more cohesion world-wide.

Another example of our public blindness and the majority in Congress avoiding facts: Blaming our President on the present state of affairs in Iraq, Afghanistan and in part of Africa – power of the Taliban, IS, insurgencies.

These people forget that the US was the aggressor nation when we attacked Iraq and for years ignored to fight a real fight in Afghanistan, a justified war. They forgot that during that interval the Taliban had time to regroup itself and, in addition, to study and learn the value of suicide bombings, which the factions in Iraq, once they had a more 'benign' government, built up into a successful business.

And the sparsity of world history in this country did not let Americans grasp the fact that the Islamic world never has and still does not want to adopt western type rules, governments and customs. And that the individual citizen on the street has very little input, as the interpretation of their religious culture provides for their submission.

As to ending of the war and removal of our troops, Americans forget, so does Congress, that this is what the citizens wanted at the time of the President's election in 2008. They were tired of the money spent on the wars and the loss of lives. So, how can they fault the President now for doing just that.

President Obama was a man who wanted peace and diplomacy as working tools, not lashing out and slaying the dragon at first sight. Yes, peacefulness does appear as weakness, but yet it is a greater strength than warmongering. But it does take time. Also, in America's case, we are paying now for having broken our benign reputation as a peaceful and respectful country by having crossed the threshold of peace to an unprovoked war and put ourselves on the same level as those groups we now battle.

Forgotten is the history that President Obama was handed, the most rotten situation, as well as a Congress whose ego still hurt from the 2008 political trouncing, and thus became another enemy within our own borders the President had to contend with.

It is sad to see that greed for power, self-importance and money, as well as ugliness in expression, have become the idols of this country. It is no longer the land that I first saw and admired in the 1950s, the country that was a fair and honorable winner in WWII and that I respected to the utmost.

Some years have past and some administrations too.  And today, in 2019, we have a split country because of the political situation.
Our president, Donald Trump, is not the fittest person to rule a country.  Lacks much of the knowledge economically, financially, geographically, lacks  world economic understanding as to trade and needs of not only the US but other countries, and he is an isolationist, wanting the US to only look at herself and do what is advantageous for the US, regardless of world ramifications.  He is often vulgar, very outspoken, speaking the language of the people of the street, which makes him appealing to all his supporters, as he seems to be one of them.  He rules on the spur of the moment. Whatever comes into his mind he will say and often do, even though utterly inappropriate. The worst part is, he may be re-elected for a second term, because his supporters, even though slightly in the minority, but because of the US system of elections, not by popular count, he simply has to focus on those states that have the most electors, and that will bring a win. Our electorial system leaves much to be desired, since it leaves chosen electors in each state for the most part free to vote as they wish, not as the majority of the State's population wishes.  So it is not an effective popular vote for a president in the US.

This country also is usurped by murder and mayhem, having become increasingly worse year by year.  It is not the US that I knew from the early 50s.  The Book "The Ugly American" published decades ago, now not only applies to a few individuals, who present a snobbish picture of the US to the rest of the world, it has become literally a true title for the US today.  And the voices of those who want to bring about a good change, are being outshouted by "The Ugly American".

                                                            The Beauty of the land. Let us learn from it.

Gallery of Clouds and Sky

When I recently read of a gentleman who photographed a tree, standing singly in an open field, for one year each day once, I thought it such a great idea - as those pictures were absolutely captivating, with the environment (ground) changing over time so much, more than the tree itself.  However, I live in a wooded area, mainly pines, where such changes are not that noticeable daily, so I wondered what I could use. As I mused, sitting on my deck, and by habit looked at the limited amount of sky I could see in one direction due to the many tall trees all around the property, I focused on this one spot and decided to observer the sky daily to see what I could discover. I assumed there would be many changes - and there are. I photograph at about the same time each early evening, i.e. right after sunset. And the sky is a miracle of art via the clouds. No two days, even moments are the same. After I take a shot and I wait a few seconds it already looks slightly different. So a few pictures are taken on the same evening, but a minute or less apart. At this point the pictures extended over 12 days. I hope I can do this for a year until next August 2016.
I have become so captivated by the clouds and sky and different hues, that I find myself taking pictures in other spots too, and have some wonderful shots. As I drive along my rural roads I love to see all the various formations of clouds, blues sky, grey sky, sometimes a mix of all, that I wish I could photograph all of it. It is like a natural movie daily, and does not cost anything.

Following are a few shots taken on a walk from my house down the road for 2/10 of a mile.

The street scene does not show the various sky views, since the camera does not pick up (not my cheap one) the coloring in the distance unless aimed at it.  On my return way, the sky was totally clear of all the clouds and this blue.
Yes, life can be fascinating when we look at the things right near us.  We don't have to go far or travel to many places to be taken in by beauty.

These were taken on 9/22/15 @ 6:06, 6:06, 6:07 PM. The lower the sun went beyond view the wider the reddish tinge spread.  I have become so fascinated with the sky that I look at it wherever I am, and wish I could photograph it all the time. A changing wonder.

Local, state and federal institutions all in a tizzy about the horrendous shooting incidents across the country and in their home districts.  Forming panels, groups, etc., to come up with solutions, besides adding more police.  - Even (finally) call on parents to know where their kids are, what they do, who their friends are.
But it won't work, because parents are either too involved in their own lives and work, or too permissive. (Yes, there are exceptions, but the great number are not exceptions.) Yet, the solution is so easy, and costs nothing, and can be done by each individual where ever one is.

Ask Christ to come into your life (via his Spirit), and then stay with Him, by daily talk and thanks with and to Him.  He protects us from evil. And also from doing evil.  It is so simple and so peaceful a life.

If everyone did it, there would be no violence, neither on TV nor in daily life, no hate, no exploitation of our sexual being, but a simple, clean life. Even poverty would not be a problem, because we would have what we need and guided in whatever we need to do to make a living and caring for fellow man.

But neither peoples of this country, nor any other in the world will do so, because every one thinks they know what they want in their lives and they do not want God's plan for us be their guide.  So, the few of us who walk with the Lord, can only feel sad for all the masses who willingly expose themselves to evil.

My new Friends

A new neighbor moved into the lot down a ways with his two horses, to my delight.  There were horses there in the past, but had been gone for a long while now, and I really missed them and my "chats" with them. So this new neighbor came with his horses, and even acquired another one after a while.  And I could not wait to make friends with them.

When I first approached the fence the two original ones, Blaze (male) and Rosebud (female) were hesitant. Even though they are used to people, as they are being ridden, but I was a stranger, right along with Tipsy, my dog, who even barked at them at first.  But after a couple of visits they trusted me and came up to the fence as soon as they saw me.  By now, even when they see Tipsy first, and have not heard my voice from the distance, they will come to the fence knowing I will be there shortly.

What I noticed instantly though was that Rosebud (and I had not learned their names until much later, just called them "horsies") the female was dominant.  Blaze the male, even though older, would be pushed aside by Rosebud when I petted him.  So he learned quickly to retreat, as soon as she came up.  I would have to go to the fence a bit further down, to try to pet him, before she would catch up with us.

Finally I decided to take a treat, either apple or carrot, and of course, they loved that.  But again, it was impossible to give Blaze anything, because Rosebud would simply shove his head away with hers, and hog the food.  So I learned to have a bite in each hand, and reaching to either of them at the same time.  So Rosebud  being busy with her chew, did not have time to bother Blaze as he got his.  But Blaze never came up as close to the fence, as Rosebud did. It was often hard to give the food to him, because I could not reach in far enough.  So I learned to toss it to him.  And he learned that that was a way that Rosebud did not bother him and yet he was not being neglected. He realized he was as important to me as Rosebud was. Therefore, after a while, he decided he could get to me, by running up first.  And it worked, at least for a minute or so, when Rosebud caught up.

Then came Dixie.  She was a bit shy at first.  According to the owner, she had not been treated too well in her previous home, therefore the eye problem, inflammation all around the lid. But after a couple of visits, she too became relaxed.  And now I observed something even more interesting - she had no problem with Blaze being there, so generally, Blaze would stand on one side of her and Rosebud on the other.  And Rosebud did not pre-empt the food from Dixie, she recognized her as her slightly superior pasture mate, even though Rosebud was older.  But there was a calmness, and yet a strong sense of competence in Dixie that made all the difference in their hiarchal setting.  And Blaze slowly learned to come closer to the fence again realizing that he was not threatened by anyone now.

One time though, we all jumped.  That was when I happened to slightly touch the top wire of the electr. fence. We all jumped back, and, of course, the horses were momentarily spooked. It took a while for them to come back near the fence.  A longer while for Blaze to do so.

One day, however, Blaze really got the upper hand, and seemed to have relished it.  After our visit, he decided to leave the fence first, but this time, running full tilt toward the back of the area, then make a big circle along the entire fenced in enclosure.  Naturally, having become curious, Rosebud and Dixie followed him, but he did not let them catch up with him.  Suddenly he began to make the circles smaller and smaller, until he wound up at the gate-end of the front fence in a tight twirl, and the two ladies still following his pattern.  Yet they never ran into each other.  It was quite a ballet by that time.  Eventually, Blaze stopped, looked toward the road, and so did the other two, standing closely together by now. It was a sight to see, the relish Blaze had in goading his dominant ladies for a change.

When I am out of food, I always say that is all, no more, stretch out my empty hand to let them lick it, and they understand.  But they will not walk away, they are quite happy to simply entertain me with their company, until I tell them that Tipsy and I have to go home.  Then they usually walk away, but do at times, return to watch us disappear down the road.

I also noticed that the owner, having met him eventually and talked to him, does not leave the fence charged, knowing I treat the horses.  That was very nice, and we all appreciate it.

My immediate neighbor's dog has lately decided to join us in our walks.  And being very laid back and placid, as well as curious, not worried about any dangers, got so intrigued by the horses being near the fence, that he stuck his head in and nuzzled Dixie's nose, Tipsy joining him, while Dixie nuzzled them, audibly inhaling the odor to obviously make herself remember these critters' ID.

As of spring 2016 the horses are gone. Their owner died and they were sold. I miss them daily when I walk up the road and don't see them on the property. 

Memories

In my country a warm summer is not very long and starts later than here in N.C. As a child it was the  most exciting thing to experience, go swimming.  In May we would try to shed our long stockings and have knee highs, or even short socks, if Mom did not catch us rolling down our long stockings.  Daily we watched the skies and hoped for more and warmer sun.  Come June, there were those days that became warm enough to go to the open air pool, the only place to go. When younger, Mom had to take me, and I had to fit my hopes into her work schedule. We would go to the streetcar stop, waiting for the #2 Streetcar, which would get us to the end stop where the pool was. There was a long line at the ticket counter, and finally we were inside, went to the dressing area, stuffed our clothes into the bags, and then went outside to the pool, which was crowded.  But Mom made sure I was not accosted. Once, when a bully pushed me into the low end of pool, she came to my rescue giving the boy a dressing down.  I learned to swim with a aid of a metal oblong canister, metal, light weight, chained around my waist, after Mom had taught me the basic swim move of a breast stroke. Eventually I dared to jump off 1 meter diving board. And now I was a swimmer.  After I reached about 10 yrs I was allowed to go by myself and with girl friend to the pool.  It was grand.  But the season was short, and even in June, July and August there were many rain days when we could not go. In September it was usually too cool and the pool closed. 
As an older teenager, having joined the Life Guard Club, we spent many summer hours at another open air pool, which at that time was really only a backwater of the Rhine River, separated from the river by a dam. And we often swam in the Rhine River, crossing to the other side. That required to gauge the speed of the river's flow, and walking up-river on our side, before going in to cross, so that we could come out opposite our usual sunning spot on our side.  The same on our return trip, walking back upstream, to come back out where we needed to. If we overshot, we had to walk back to our pool area on our side also.
Some of the guys would swim up to the low floating cargo tenders, towed by tugboats, often three of them behind a tug. And the guys would climb up on the tenders, and further upstream jump back in and swim back to the pool area of the river. I never did, it was way too dangerous for my taste. 
But even today, on a warm sunny day, when I smell the water of a lake or river it makes me think of those wonderful, exciting years of having the special treat in our short summers of swimming.