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Rather than put in another “place holder” I thought I would just “put it out there:” Any questions or topics for my blog? As some orator said, “If so, speak.” (comment)
OK, since you insist, here’s just one place holder, from Free Fall Friday, for today’s post:
prompt-He was 92
When you age, I know, life gets interesting. You look at your new brown spots: interesting. The skin is newly different: interesting. He was 92, my neighbour, and he was an interesting man. He had taken an old shovel handle and attached a wooden slab: now he had a human powered bulldozer blade—far better than my snow shovel.
His name was Edward, no doubt for an old king, and we had a deal. Without ever speaking about it, the deal was that he would bulldoze any light falls of snow for us both, and for heavier falls I would shovel us both. It was not unknown for me to shovel us three times in one day. And our sidewalks too.
One day I knocked and he yelled, “Come in Sean!” so in I came. Actually he had yelled the name “John,” his son-in-law. I had watched his son, and his granddaughter get older and older—once she sat with him playing a school band flute. On the day I entered in we had a big laugh at our mistake, and he showed me a plaque in the kitchen.
Here were the last medals achieved by his brother in the war, his brother forever young. Edward was 92 but he still remembered playing soccer with his brother on those crisp prairie mornings, and the feel of trapping the ball with the instep. He was lucky to keep those memories, lucky to have been “a guest of the fuhrer” (German word for leader) from Dieppe for he was able to survive to be 92. He and the good wife have survived another winter. Summer is here, the daughter has taken up singing and I am welcome to bring a steak out to Edward’s b-b-q.
You know, many of these hit parade songs are just too hard to sing. So the granddaughter, son and I join in the old goodies. Do you know, “It’s a long way to tipperary?”
“Oh, it’s a long way to go.”
It was a joy to see Edward moving around the yard, bringing more berries, and encouraging us all to enjoy nature. Do you know what he would say? “Pack up your troubles in your old kit bag, and smile, boys, smile.”
…
…
Sean Crawford,
In the heart of the Bible Belt,
On God’s own Great Plains,
February, 2022.
Library Time Traveler’s note: If you are reading this in the library a year from now, then it may be obvious to you what Russia would/would not do. But for us right here, this is not old history. It’s now.
In the News: Speaking of my neighbour’s war, do I think the Russians will invade Ukraine? No. Why? Firstly, because independant syndicated international columnist Gwynn Dyer doesn’t think so, and I find his reasoning sound. Secondly, because every time I see newsreel footage, from either side, I see spread out soldiers or tanks (my neighbour was in a tank) with small numbers, just like some glorious blankety-blank Hollywood movie. But in a real war, men and material are crammed together like hay for a cow. “Cannon food” they called them.
Hollywood, by the way, (and certain peacetime hobbyists) also seems to think that most fighters are in elite units. Not so, because such units should be thin on the ground—After I had served with the peacetime Canadian Airborne Regiment I wondered if our purpose was to raise the morale of the rest of the army, by giving others something to talk about, be inspired by, and think of joining. (Airborne included artillery and engineers)
Personal note: After I looked up Falklands rifles, last week, I started getting e-mailed “quora” question pages. I marked the mail as “junk.” Why? Firstly, because it was an interesting yet wasteful time sink. Secondly, so many questions seemed to be about elite units which to me is distastefully close to fascism. The Nazis had lots of elites and according to one historian, all that did was draw men off from other units who could have been useful NCO leaders in their home units.
