Family Photos

The Doright Family converged on Nashville, Tennessee, for Christmas. We rented a home on Old Hickory Lake through Home Away and spent four days in close quarters. I’m pleased to announce that not one of the twelve people present was harmed during our long weekend of enforced confinement. See, miracles do still happen.

As part of our Christmas gift our children arranged for a photographer to come out to the house on Christmas Eve to take family photos. The last family photos were circa 2002, so we were way past due. 

Here are a few of my favorites:

Studly Doright and Moi
Daughter Ashley and Son Jason join the Dynamic Doright Duo
All the Grands
Jackson and Garrett
Eldest grandson, Garrett
Youngest grandson, Jackson
Eldest granddaughter, Dominique
Middle granddaughter, McKayla
Youngest grandchild, Harper
The big girls
Siblings
Siblings
Daughter Ashley and her family
Son Jason and his family
Just the granddaughters
The whole bunch featuring Saint Helen

One Half from the East

This sounds so good.

yourdaughtersbookshelf's avataryourdaughtersbookshelf

unknown-1Happy 2017, everyone!! Here’s to a great year of reading.

In many places, life is just easier if you are a boy. For you and for your family. Afghanistan is one such place.

10-year-old Obayda lives in Kabul with her mother, father and three older sisters. She loves to go to school and wear dresses and dance and swing her beautiful hair around. Her father is a respected policeman, and the family is content and prosperous. Her future looks bright. But the future cannot always be predicted. 

One day, as she waits outside the pharmacy for her father to pick up a prescription for her illness, a bomb blows up and changes everything. Her father lost a leg and his will to live, and the family had to leave their life in Kabul to move in with his family in a small village.  Life is so different now. Her father refuses to leave his…

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On the bull kelp

Mike Bizeau is one of the best nature photographers out there. He shares a link to a songbird site in this offering.

Mike and Christy's avatarnature has no boss

yellow_rumped_bull_kelp

A tiny Yellow Rumped Warbler found the bull kelp a perfect perch for hunting sand flies and other small insects on the beach. This girl would quickly dart down form the kelp to snag a small meal and quickly return to her perch. Seeing her sitting on the head of the bull kelp made us realize just how small she was. We watched a documentary about songbirds the other night called The Messenger. Here is a link to the website http://songbirdsos.com
It is a very timely reminder about what a world without song birds would be like.

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Acoustic, Yet Radioactive 

Sirius/XM satellite radio might be the greatest invention of all time. If talk radio is your thing, they’ve got you covered. News? Covered. Traffic and weather? Covered. Sports? They’re all over that. But greatest of all is the quality and quantity of channels catering to music.

Remember the old days when your favorite song would begin playing on an FM station just as the family’s Chevy pulled out of broadcast range? Torture! Especially if Daddy was driving. He wouldn’t even attempt to tune the dial to reclaim the song, as opposed to when he lost the signal for a high school football game broadcast on an AM station. Then we were treated to static of varying quality in his search for a even hint of the game. Good times, but I digress.

Thanks to Sirius/XM I can listen to one station for the entire length of my journey, barring brief interruptions incurred whilst driving under overpasses or through tunnels. Truly, it’s a beautiful thing.

My favorite music station on Sirius is Coffeehouse, where only acoustic versions of songs are featured. Some of the offerings are quirky, but others hit it out of the park. One day this week I heard Imagine Dragons’ acoustic version of their hit, Radioactive. I do believe it’s a home run.

https://youtu.be/ef9zcnozDmM

I’ve Been Thinking

I’ve been thinking dangerous thoughts, like how will I handle living under a trump

regime, and how will I explain to my granddaughters that a man who publicly bragged

about sexually assaulting women was elected to the highest office in this great land?

I’ve been thinking about one person, one vote, and how the electoral college system

resulted in the unthinkable: a grossly unqualified reality television star as commander

in chief, all because a good many Americans chose to believe rumors about a woman,

while denying deplorable truths about a man. The patriarchy is alive and well here in River City.

I’ve been thinking that this country’s future rests now precariously in unstable hands,

Somewhere between the devil and the deep red sea. If this were a movie, our noble 

knight would arrive on a charging steed, blades flashing, intent on saving us from ourselves.

He’d best hurry. I’m losing heart, and this is no movie. But, still, I’ve been thinking.

Resolutions, I Reckon

I resolve, she said, to abstain from running naked down the boulevard.

That’s no decent resolution, said he, since not doing that won’t be too hard.

Ha! she said, You’ve no idea of the urge I have to disrobe every night,

And jog joyfully down Monroe street clothed in nothing but moonlight.

In that case, he smiled sincerely, I hope this resolution breaks,

And I’ll wait for you on the capitol steps no matter how long it takes.

The New Year Approacheth

As the final few hours of 2016 tick away, Studly is yawning and I’m in my p.j.s.

Invitations? We had a few, but decided on spending a quiet night for two.

We’ll watch college football until 10 or so, then off to our bed we’ll gladly go.

At midnight I’ll give Studly a kiss; he’ll mumble I love you and return to his bliss.

The ball will drop in New York City, while my man and I snore along with our kitties.

Happy New Year to all, may this one be great, however you choose to celebrate.

Peace, people.

Only Through Self Control

As God is my witness, I’ll keep this resolution. Granted, it will require self control and hours of hard work, but I thrive on challenge. 

Barbie and the Cave Bear

In my youth I was into playing with fashion dolls Barbie and Ken, along with their friends Midge and Alan. My collection of the dolls never extended past that core group. Alan was lost early on and all of Ken’s fuzzy hair rubbed off, so he was essentially bald for as long as I can remember. Maybe that’s why I find Studly Doright so darned attractive. 
Unlike most of my friends I didn’t go in for dressing my Barbie dolls in ball gowns and high heels. The latter never stayed on for more than ten seconds anyway. No, my dolls were meant for greater things than parading about in too tight skirts and sweaters that showed off their alarmingly enhanced charms. 

I had two favorite scenarios: 

1) “Space Barbie” in which Barbie and Midge are the first women in space. They travel to a distant planet where they rescue Ken who had been marooned for months. Together, the trio fight off strange life forms and build the foundation of a dynamic colony. There might have been some mild romance. I wasn’t very old, and had no idea where babies came from. 

2) “Cave Barbie” in which Barbie and Midge are foraging for food in prehistoric times and wander too far from their home village. They take shelter from a violent storm in a cave and discover Ken who’d been exiled by another tribe. Together, the trio fight off strange beasts and build the foundation for a dynamic new clan. 

Anyone see a pattern forming? There were other scenarios–“Pirate Barbie,” “Ranch Barbie,” and “Archeological Barbie,” to name a few. In each scenario Barbie and Midge had to pull Ken’s butt out of a life threatening predicament. Keep in mind, this was well before the popularity of career minded Barbie. I was either way ahead of my time or suffering from delusions of grandeur. 

Two of my granddaughters play with Barbies. I tried to tell the oldest one about my dolls’ adventures. She wasn’t impressed.

“Did you have a Barbie house?” she asked.

“Well, no, I piled up blankets and created little caves in the folds. That’s where they lived.”

“Did your dolls have lots of pretty dresses?”

“No, but my mom found some fake fur scraps and I draped them around my Barbies to keep them warm in their caves. Cool, huh?”

“I think I like my way better,” she said. 

“Fine. Be that way,” I retorted. “But just know that Ken’s blood is on your hands.”

I’m not allowed to babysit anymore.

Peace, people.