It's All About the Journey

Today is your future. Live in the moment!

A Hyphen

Remembering my grandmother today.  It would be her 116th birthday.  Happy “earth” day, Pearl Doty!  I’m remembering you today, and your hyphen, 1900-1988.

Yesdoty & kids0072

Okay, I’m the baby on her right knee, looking at baby Russell, in her left arm.  I do remember this picture being taken.  I do remember watching that baby.  Definitely my earliest memory in life, because this event, the picture with all her grandchildren up to that point, was taking place.  The year was 1957.


1958. (Note of interest – I now live next door to this house in the background)

Grandma Doty was essential in my early years.  We lived with her on the farm in German, NY, then on Albany Street.  Eventually my parents bought a small house outside of the village.  Grandma remained on Albany Street, in an apartment, until 1975, when she went into the NYS Veterans Home.

Grandma would have us over on Friday nights for a sleepover.  We’d watch her new color TV (Gomer Pyle, USMC) and then go to bed in her big double bed in the little bedroom, with her mother’s portrait standing guard over us (they didn’t smile in those days, so it was a little scary).  The next morning Grandma would be in her tiny apartment kitchen, making us breakfast:  orange juice, cereal, eggs, toast, and hot cocoa.  Way more than we could eat!

Life was good.

I remember taking her via air to my sister’s wedding in 1978, Holland, Michigan.  We had a grand time.  Gram, as I fondly called her, was escorted via wheelchair, all over the airports, first on, last off.

Sometimes I can feel her spirit quickening inside of me.  I enjoy the feeling and bask in it.

Miss you, Gram.  Happy birthday!  I still love you.


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One Woman’s Strength…another Book Review

The Other Queen, by Philippa Gregory

I enjoy the way Ms. Gregory writes the thoughts of others, others of so long ago.  It fascinates me that Mary, Queen of Scots (imprisoned at this writing by house arrest and Queen Elizabeth, her cousin) would feel the way she does:

“I am only twenty-six years old and I have lived three lifetimes already!  I deserve the highest place in the world and yet I occupy the lowest.  But still I am a queen, I am a queen three times over. I was born Queen of Scotland, I was crowned Queen of France, and I am heir to the crown of England…I am a queen: different rules apply for queens.  I have had to endure events as a woman that I would never even name as a queen.  I would not stoop to acknowledge them..I will never complain of it.  As a queen my person must be inviolate, my body is always holy, my presence is sacred.  Shall I lose that powerful magic for the benefit of moaning on about my injuries?  Shall I trade majesty itself for the pleasure of a word of sympathy?  Would I prefer to command, or do I long to whimper about my wrongs?  Shall I order men, or shall I weep at the fireside with other injured women?  Of course. The answer to this is simple.  Bien sur.  No one must ever pity me…I cannot be robbed of myself, I cannot mislay my own divinity.  I may be abused but I will always deny it.  Whether I am seated on a throne or wearing rags, I am still a queen…I am ordained, I am chosen by God.  How can they be so dense as to not see it?…I am queen till death.  It is not an office, it is not an occupation, it is an inheritance of blood.”

I enjoy Mary’s take on life.  She certainly had strength of character.  I admire that!  Oh to have just a little of that strength…