Oh, no, I'm turning into my grandparents! Thanks to the wonders of Google Street View I can see the apartment building on East C Street where they lived in McCook, Nebraska. The building is still there, and looking just as unappealing as it did in the Sixties. The landlord's house is still next door with the brick fences we used to sit on to play cowboys on horses. There wasn't much to do inside the apartment except listen to Granddad's emphysemic coughing and Grandmother drumming her lilac painted fingernails on the dinette table. Once in awhile Granddad would let us rearrange the figures on the windowsill to amuse the people who walked on the sidewalk immediately beyond the glass. Not often, though, as it involved messing with uncooperative venetian blinds. He had a little old man sitting in a rocking chair, a little old woman in her own rocking chair, and a navajo hogan incense burner. Granddad would set the little old man and the little old woman together if he and Grandmother were getting along. If they were bickering Granddad put the figures at opposite ends of the sill. Like I said, there wasn't much to do. So now I've got these rabbits on the windowsill. They are not bickering, but some of them are singing a cappella. The snapshot I took when my grandparents visited us for Christmas 1964 is pretty scary, especially because I'd completely blocked those hideous dining room curtains from my memory with the bamboo blinds and that glass knickknack shelf above. 6/21/2014
Windowsills
Oh, no, I'm turning into my grandparents! Thanks to the wonders of Google Street View I can see the apartment building on East C Street where they lived in McCook, Nebraska. The building is still there, and looking just as unappealing as it did in the Sixties. The landlord's house is still next door with the brick fences we used to sit on to play cowboys on horses. There wasn't much to do inside the apartment except listen to Granddad's emphysemic coughing and Grandmother drumming her lilac painted fingernails on the dinette table. Once in awhile Granddad would let us rearrange the figures on the windowsill to amuse the people who walked on the sidewalk immediately beyond the glass. Not often, though, as it involved messing with uncooperative venetian blinds. He had a little old man sitting in a rocking chair, a little old woman in her own rocking chair, and a navajo hogan incense burner. Granddad would set the little old man and the little old woman together if he and Grandmother were getting along. If they were bickering Granddad put the figures at opposite ends of the sill. Like I said, there wasn't much to do. So now I've got these rabbits on the windowsill. They are not bickering, but some of them are singing a cappella. The snapshot I took when my grandparents visited us for Christmas 1964 is pretty scary, especially because I'd completely blocked those hideous dining room curtains from my memory with the bamboo blinds and that glass knickknack shelf above. 
6/17/2014
A new blog endeavor
Please visit my new endeavor, To know a place: Oak Point Nature Preserve. Tracking the seasons and sightings through the year, I hope to create a searchable resource for nature lovers.
© 2014 Nancy L. Ruder
© 2014 Nancy L. Ruder
6/15/2014
Love, Gramps
When my dad was finally ready to talk about his experiences in World War II, it was not to his children, but to his grandsons. He wanted them to know the facts, the history. Dad wanted my sons to know the horrors of war, and the foolishness of politicians. Long before he started yelling at Dubya on the nightly news, Dad put together this letter with photos for the boys who were at that time a first grader, a preschooler, and a toddler.
The 45th Infantry Museum was a favorite family outing during the short time we lived in Oklahoma.
© 2014 Nancy L. Ruder
The 45th Infantry Museum was a favorite family outing during the short time we lived in Oklahoma.
Dad managed to hop up to sit on the hood of a jeep and break the folded-down windshield, so this was a true life cautionary tale.
Jim Mitchell, Dallas Morning News editorial writer had similar thoughts this week between the D-Day anniversary and Father's Day.
And you of tender years
Can't know the fears that your elders grew by
And so please help them with your youth
They seek the truth before they can die
Don't you ever ask them why, if they told you, you would cry,
So just look at them and sigh and know they love you.
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