honor guard

I went to a funeral this afternoon. It was in remembrance of the sister of a woman with whom I attend church and volunteer for Habitat. The same woman who was my sixth grade teacher, oh, say, 7 years ago. Maybe it wasn't 7 years. Moving on.

I didn't know the woman, Jane, who was being remembered. Jane was a daughter, sister, aunt, great-aunt who was really loved by her family, and they honored her life today. Jane had a career as a sergeant in the United States' Air Force; her job was tracking missiles and other dangerous things. She was so good at what she did that many US policies regarding missiles and things of that sort (which I do not understand so you will have to bear with me on this), were based on her recommendations and strategies she made up. Even Great Britain's RAF studied her ideas and implemented some.

Jane had received many a commendation throughout the course of her career, and the final recognition from the USAF came today at her service.

The Honor Guard.

I have never been to the funeral of a military person before, and the experience of watching the two men handle the American flag was really profound. I was sitting in the sanctuary of my church, between The Mister's Mama and Bec. The room had the quiet hiss of whispers, but with the first click of the Honor Guard's shoes, silence fell. The men slowly marched to the front of the church, approaching the altar, and turned right to stand in front of Jane's family. One held a folded American flag. He turned to face the second of the Honor Guard, and in a series of purposeful movements, inspected the flag, and presented it to the second man, who also inspected the flag.

They unfolded the flag, first untucking the end from the triangle, then took it from triangle-shaped to thin rectangle revealing the red and white stripes, then a wider rectangle (folded in half), finally unfolding it. At the moment the Honor Guard was standing with The Flag displayed between them, Taps began to play.

I think every person in that room had difficulty breathing.

When Taps ended, the Honor Guard re-folded the flag. Rectangles, then triangles, the red and white disappeared with only the blue field with white stars remaining. The end was retucked, the folds smoothed, the flag inspected. The second man presented it to the first.

The first member of the Honor Guard gently took the flag and knelt down before Jane's mother, and said, On behalf of the President of the United States, the Department of the Air Force, and a grateful nation, we offer this flag for the faithful and dedicated service of Sergeant Jane G...

He said more, but the sniffling drowned out his words.

It was beautiful.

The formality of the flag-folding made me wonder what the specific motions symbolized, and why the flag was folded just so. All of the websites I read had the exact same information, so I am sharing it with you.

The first fold in our flag is a symbol of life.

The second fold is a symbol of our belief in eternal life.

The third fold is made in honor and remembrance of the veterans departing our ranks who gave a portion of their lives for the defense of our country to attain peace throughout the world.

The fourth fold represents our weaker nature, for as American citizens trusting in God, it is to Him we turn in times of peace as well as in times of war for His divine guidance.

The fifth fold is a tribute to our country, for in the words of Stephen Decatur "Our country, in dealing with other countries, may she always be right; but it is still our country, right or wrong."

The sixth fold is for where our hearts lie. It is with our heart that we pledge allegiance to the flag of the United States of America, and to the Republic for which it stands, one Nation, under God, indivisible, with Liberty and Justice for all.

The seventh fold is a tribute to our Armed Forces, for it is through the Armed Forces that we protect our country and our flag against all of her enemies, whether they be found within or without the boundaries of our republic.

The eighth fold is a tribute to the one who entered into the valley of the shadow of death, that we might see the light of day, and to honor mother, for whom it flies on Mother's Day.

The ninth fold is in tribute to womanhood; for it has been through their faith, their love, loyalty and devotion that the character of the men and women who have made this country great has been molded.

The tenth fold is a tribute to the father, for he too, has given his sons and daughters for the defense of our country since they were first born.

The eleventh fold, in the eyes of a Hebrew citizen, represents the lower portion of the seal of King David and King Solomon, and glorifies in their eyes, the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob.

The twelfth fold, in the eyes of a Christian citizen, represents an emblem of eternity and glorifies, in the eyes, God the Father, the Son, and Holy Spirit. When the flag is completely folded, the stars are uppermost reminding us of our nation's motto: "In God We Trust."

After the flag is completely folded and tucked in, it takes on the appearance of a tucked hat, ever reminding us of the soldiers who served under General George Washington, and of the sailors and marines who served under Captain John Paul Jones, who was followed by their comrades and shipmates in the Armed Forces of the United States, preserving for us the rights, privileges, and freedoms we enjoy today. This final condition represents the thirteenth fold.

This tradition is so old that there is nobody on record as The Author of the Flag Fold. Now we all know that I've been wrong before, but all of the info I have read says that nobody knows. So if you are that blessed individual who has That Sort Of Information, correct me gently and point yourself in the direction of the Smithsonian, because they care.

The beauty of the tradition lies in the remembering and the honoring. Our society does not value remembering and honoring the way it used to. The simple act of folding our flag honors so many.

Every time our American Flag is folded, it honors God. And that is a lot to think about in this time of, well, whatever this time in the hereandnow is. So think about that, and get back to me.

putting in beans

This isn't a picture from today, but it is indicative of the sort of activity that has been consuming much of our time lately.

In other news, we were at the East Aurora Farmers' Market this afternoon, and there was

ASPARAGUS!!!

And SPINACH!!!

And RHUBARB!!!

So we had asparagus/spinach/rhubarb crisp for dessert. Except I left out the asparagus and spinach, and just used the rhubarb. And it was fabulously tart. You will find the recipe here as soon as I get it posted.

Eat fresh. Eat local. Eat lots.

cinco de mayo, part 2

Well, I had just told him I really wanted to be friends.

It was a quiet ride home, that evening in late April, 2001. It was April 15th, if you must know. Have a look if you don't believe me. And awkward. But I'm going to be real, real honest with you: things are forever awkward between a boy and a girl who ought to be making out, but aren't.

And yes, things are forever awkward between a boy and a girl who have been making out when they shouldn't, but I am not talking about those people right now, am I? And we are using the phrase "making out" because my brothers read this, and I feel certain that at least one of them is still slightly grossed out that I got. Pregnant. Three. Times. (Sorry, man.)

I probably had that entire week off from teaching.

Pardon me whilst I endure the nausea brought on by that statement.

Better now, thankyouverymuch.

I don't remember what exactly went on for the next two weeks at all, I was most likely working, and teaching piano lessons, and watching badgood Lifetime movies, and drinking on my balcony with my French roommate. I probably tried to have a phone conversation with The Mister, but he's practically deaf, and I really don't like shouting on the phone, so the chats were likely abbreviated. And to this day we avoid talking on the phone at all costs. And by we, I mean he avoids talking to me on the phone at all costs.

I don't take it personally. I know for a fact that he likes me way better in person. I might totally be winking suggestively right now. Fortunately you can't see me, and don't know if I am a sly winking person or not.

I eventually returned to my little hometown. By this time, my father had R U N N O F T (name that movie, so things were even weirder (more weird? at an advanced level of weirdness?) that I REALLY needed to be at the pub. With The Mister. Naturally. Because I wanted to be with The Mister, I was just a big, fat, lying fraidy-cat.

Now you know the real truth. But I am over that, already, so keep it quiet. I have a reputation to keep up over here.

I was just looking for an excuse to not be involved with The Mister. And much to my chagrin (hear that sound? It's all of the English teachers cheering.) I couldn't actually find any excuse. So I started splitting hairs.

Except I didn't actually need to do anything to split The Mister's hairs. He had done it all by his veryownself. And this is how he did it: NO HAIRCUTS FOR 10 YEARS. AND NO SHAVING.

I am not kidding here, people. The man had unruly hair. And a moustache that the big black devil himself envied. It was long, and pointy, and The Mister had a habit of twirling it between his fingers when he would talk. At least, I think he was talking. There was noise coming from his head, but I couldn't see his mouth moving because HIS MOUSTACHE TRAVELED SOUTH PAST HIS BOTTOM LIP. I can't make this up. It is the honest truth I speak to you. Some of you have even seen him in This Condition.

Anyway, we went to the pub on Cinco de Mayo. And I suggested to him that I was unable to pursue a romantic relationship with him due to the current status of his face, covered with hair as it was. I considered it, and came to the conclusion that should we have a romantic relationship, I would be unable to kiss him because there was no evidence of him having an actual mouth. And one-sided kissing is a drag, you know?

He suggested to me that it was quite possible that he had a mouth, as he recalled brushing his teeth, and also that if I plied him with enough liquor, he would shave it all off.

Damn.

eeeeeewwwwww....

Interesting (read: made me throw up in my mouth) piece on Vitamin Water at The Cleaner Plate Club.

Please tell me you'll never touch the stuff again.

a little bit of the mister

As I was sitting on the concrete benches that are our mini-Stonehenge this afternoon, watching The Mister mow the lawn, I smiled.

Because that guy has great arms.

look what i made

One of these:

This is a four layer chocolate cake with bittersweet chocolate-sour cream frosting. Because it's health food when you use bittersweet chocolate. Antioxidants and some such nonsense. And it's better. That's why.

And then, I made some of these:

They are pretty things made of dark chocolate. Because things are prettier when they are made of dark chocolate. Just ask Willie Wonka. Because he knows, that's why.

Acquire some nasturtiums. Then, pick some violets. Because they are pretty and edible, that's why. It's a two-for-one kind of deal. And we all like a bargain.

Then close your eyes, count to 10, and say, There's nothing like chocolate. There's nothing like chocolate. Oh, and also, click your heels together three times. Because it worked for Dorothy, that's why.

Like a bunch of two year-olds, all this why-asking.

And, voila!

The loveliest cake ever.

I call it that, because that's what it is, that's why.

they gave her money

...for Preschool Graduation, and she bought a Webkinz.

Please be advised that I am biting my tongue regarding the following topics:

1. Preschool Graduation
2. Webkinzes (webkinzi?)

(let's pause for a moment, whilst I bite away....still biting...)

Okay, I'm back. Tonight I had the pleasure of putting each of my children to bed, one at a time, thanks to a lovely Child Delivery System carried out by The Mister's parents. Let me explain, no, that take too long, let me sum up (name that movie): HB and I came home, Jacks came home with Grandpa, O came home with Grandma...and now I blog.

I asked O what she named her black Webaddictionkinz, and she said this:

Blackberry. Because he sparkles on the outside of him like a sparkly blackberry. I call him Black Sparkleberry, because his coat is so shiny sparkley. He just glistens. Black Glisten Sparkleberry. Or just Sparkleberrycoats for short. Or Sparkleblack. SparkleBlackBerry. I want to sleep with you tonight because when Jack is asleep and I am not do you know what I hear? I hear him snore. And I just cannot sleep when I am awake listening to him snore. And you and me don't snore, you and I, we don't. Just Daddy and Jacks. Henny doesn't snore (to which I raised my eyebrows). Oh, he does snore? It must just be stinky boys that snore. Not us girls. So I'll just sleep right here with you.

That is some train of thought. Maybe mine would run a little better if I had more water and juice and less of this. The first one on the list. I've had a few tonight. But I worked really hard today. I'll show you the pictures tomorrow.