Summer memories

When I was little, I lived in a town called Mill Valley in Northern California. Kids in Mill Valley couldn’t get into too much trouble in the summers because a heavy fog from San Francisco Bay would roll in every afternoon, sadly cutting playtime short.

When my family moved to Washington State, my brother and sister and I were amazed to find fog in short supply there. And the sun stayed out until after 9 pm! It was heaven to run barefoot through the lawn AFTER dinner. My brother and I shared a bedroom, and it was still so bright outside when we were sent to bed that my mom put tin foil over the windows on the sunny side of the room. We fell asleep in the golden glow of the setting sun.

Did we miss Mill Valley? Yes. Even with the fog, it had a magic all its own. And the year we moved to Washington State, some Mill Valley school kids recorded a hit song about it. My brother and sister and I listened to it all summer long in the everlasting Washington sun, and we were glad to think we had TWO home towns.

A holiday letter

This is my second cousin once removed, composer Cornelius Power.

Composer Cornelius Power (April 1, 1821 - July 4, 1915)

Cornelius loved writing letters, and every year at holiday time, the Power family turns to one of them in particular, which has been handed down through the generations. It is dated December 17, 1856, and I’d like to share it with you.

Greetings, Holiday People!

You’ll never guess what I’m doing right now. I am actually dashing through the snow in a one-horse open sleigh. Contrary to expectations, I am not laughing all the way. It is far too cold here in this winter wonderland for that. As it is, I am bundled up from head to toe in warm clothing, but I think I’ll burrow down deep into the cozy quilts and blankets that my sleigh driver has so thoughtfully provided.

Sleigh driver? Ha! It is my BFF, James Lord Pierpont, the famous organist and composer and my comradely rival in all musical endeavors. James has got a thing about one-horse open sleighs. The only thing he cares more about than composing catchy songs is dashing through the snow. He is working on a new song about it now, but I can’t see it going anywhere. He calls it “Jingle Bells,” and it’s fairly simpleminded, not at all up to the high standard he set with “Ring the Bell, Fanny.”

How I long for a cup of hot cocoa! We brought a whole lake of it in a thermos, but it spilled all over the floor of the sleigh thanks to James’s erratic driving. He’s up there now on the absolute edge of his seat, cracking the whip and singing at the top of his lungs. I’m burrowing further into the blankets and quilts. It’s a well-known fact in these parts that survivors of sleigh crashes are nearly always found closest to the floor of the vehicle.

I can only imagine how wondrous one-horse sleighs will be one hundred and fifty or so years from now, but I daresay holiday wishes will have remained exactly the same. By then, no doubt poor James’s simpleminded ditty “Jingle Bells” will have been long relegated to the dustbin and some other songwriter will have come along to better describe how fun it is to ride in a one-horse open sleigh. I am far too humble to be referring to myself, of course, although some say my sleigh song “Horsey Snow Ride” is the catchiest number they’ve ever heard.

Darn it, James! That turn was much too sharp. Ohhhhhhhh!!!!

(At this point the letter ends in a series of jagged marks.)

Of course, as history shows, Cousin Cornelius was wrong about “Jingle Bells.” James Lord Pierpont’s sleigh-ride song went on to become one of the best known and most commonly sung winter songs in the world, whereas, sadly, Cornelius’s own sleigh song “Horsey Snow Ride” has been completely ignored. But he was right about holiday wishes. They’ve remained exactly the same.

Give thanks for blessings.

Say a prayer for peace.

Give a donation where it’s needed.

Resolve to be a little more patient, a little more forgiving, and a lot more helpful.

Amen to that!

Irish rocks

A couple of years ago my brother Brian, my Da (Irish for Dad), and Auntie Helen (my Da’s sister) traveled to Ireland to visit the Land of our Ancestors. People named Power come from a place called Dunmore East, and there is a beach where we all collected rocks as Souvenirs to Mark the Day. These are the rocks I chose to remember. They are as Irish as can be.

I can’t believe my hand is big enough to hold so many rocks!

Here is Da and Auntie Helen laughing their heads off for some reason, with the harbor at Dunmore East behind them. We all had a ball!